Old and Ancient Magic
by Angel of the North
Summary: Dumbledore dead, Snape is headmaster, Harry and the gang are back and there's a missing Lestrange. New chapter, and additional notes added.
1. Prologue

Prologue: June, 1997, Harry's Sixth Year  
  
Dumbledore looked at the black-haired men around him, and walked forward, into the stone circle. 'I will pay the price.' Harry looked shocked, Voldemort simply nodded.  
'But you will not take the boy.' Laying down his wand, Albus Dumbledore walked towards Voldemort in the clearing of the Forest, where Voldemort held a knife, glittering in the sunlight. It looked as though it was made of flint, and sparks came off it, as Voldemort whetted it against a strap. A hand rested on Harry's shoulder, but he didn't turn to look, transfixed as he was by the sight.  
'Harry, you may leave us.' A rush of raw power filled the clearing, and Voldemort began the incantations.  
'I don't understand.' Harry stood tall, looking toward the stones in front of him. Albus Dumbledore was standing before a flat slab, engraved with ancient writings. He faced Voldemort, and spoke softly.  
'You will, Harry Potter, you will. Now go.'  
Harry was surrounded by creatures. A centaur came to him, and they proceeded through the path in silence.  
All of a sudden a blinding rush of power came through the trees, throwing Harry into the dirt. Voldemort laughed, and a wrenching sound could be heard through the heart of the woods.  
'Won't he..' A look of blind panic filled his face, and he tried to turn round. The hand at his shoulder stayed his progress, and all he saw was a glimpse of a bright light, white and penetrating.  
'He can't. It is written in the ancient books. There is nothing he can now do - he is weakened by the sacrifice. Not gone, and he will rise again more terribly, but you are again protected.' The centaur paused, looking beyond Harry's shoulder.  
'As are you, Severus Snape.' The potions master emerged from a shadow. 'Great things have been said about you. They are written in the stars.' They reached a second clearing, and the centaur left them.  
Tumnus, the new gamekeeper, appeared a moment later, and again Snape seemed to vanish.  
'Thank goodness I found you. Perfessor Dumbledore and you - where's Perfessor Dumbledore?'  
'He's gone, Tumnus.' Harry spoke gently to the flustered faun.  
'Gone where?'  
'He's dead.'  
'What with you gone three days, and Perfessor Snape disappearing like that, I was beginning - dead, you say? Lordy no - what are we going to do.' Harry tried to calm the faun, but it really seemed to do no good.  
'What's happened?' Harry caught something about most of the dementers leaving Azkaban, and turned white. The prisoners would have left also. Leaving the faun by his hut he walked silently to the castle with Professor Snape, who had re-appeared as they left the forest.  
'The Headmaster's office, Potter. Twenty minutes.'  
Turning Harry barely caught Snape's words.  
  
'That was for me."  



	2. In the Headmaster's study

Chapter 1: The Headmaster's Study   
  
Once he was in the study Snape sat at the writing desk, took up his pen and parchment, and began to write.  
  
_"You have the right to know. Tomorrow you will be visited by a witch and a wizard, by the name of Lestrange. They met at Hogwarts, they married soon after. They have been in Azkaban for the last 15 years. They are Death Eaters. They are your parents.  
  
You were adopted, and placed under a Fidelius charm, preventing anyone from knowing who you were, up to and including today, when it was broken. You were placed with a pureblood family, who had no idea of your parentage, simply that you were born to a wizarding family.  
If you wish to speak to me, you may rest assured that it will be treated in strictest confidence. Alternatively you may show this letter to Professor Flitwick, as your head of house.  
The parchment is keyed only to yourself. You may not copy it, nor will you be able to show it to anyone else. You can read it aloud, but be careful where you do so.  
  
Professor S Snape  
Headmaster,  
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry"_   
  
  
Signing the letter, and sealing it with his ring, he gave it to the scops owl that was kept for internal school deliveries. Sighing, he indicated its recipient, and sat back down, still unable to bring himself to take his place in the Headmaster's chair. He would have to do so before long - the governors would be here, he would be unable to conduct business with them in front of the desk. He picked up the Sorting Hat, and put it back on the shelf where it belonged.  
  
'What is it, Potter?'  
'You said there was a letter for me, sir.' Harry was pale, with dark circles round his eyes. The glasses had been fixed, but he was still dirty from his time in the forest.  
'Ah, yes.' No Ice, No Sarcasm, No Snape. Harry looked up at him. Snape handed over the scrolls, and then sat behind the desk to observe. Steepling his hands, he sunk lower into the chair that their mentor had once occupied. 'You're waiting for something?'  
'I, er, no.' Harry got up to leave.  
'You were thinking of leaving? That would be very foolish indeed. Someone might see that letter.' Again. No malice, no emotion at all. The sheer presence of Snape was lacking in the room, and the only thing that kept Harry acting normally was habit in the presence of his feared potions master. But it was a shell. Gathering his courage he looked up.  
'What is it?' Irritation, but no venom. The spark had gone from the beetle-black eyes. Harry wasn't sure if this wasn't some sort of polyjuice professor.  
'May I... May I talk to the Sorting Hat?' Snape looked utterly incredulous.  
'And why would you want to get your grubby little fingers on what is a precious magical artifact?'  
'Because I've spoken to young Mr. Potter a few times. And didn't you every think that a thinking cap such as myself might have other uses than simply sorting students? Albus Dumbledore knew better than most when he said he was putting his thinking cap on.' The hat paused, and looked around at the portraits. 'Few other Headmasters have been quite so wise as he.'  
'By implication myself,' Snape snarled quietly at the hat.  
'You're right. None could replace Albus Dumbledore. Not you, not Harry Potter, not Minerva McGonagall. And yet we chose you to succeed him. Chose you both in fact.'  
Harry was alert now. Fawkes picked up the hat, and both landed on Harry's knee. He stroked the hat behind what would have been its ears, and it giggled, his other hand resting on Fawkes. The ridiculousness of the situation hit both master and student - Snape snorted, Harry laughed out loud while the Hat chuckled as it was tickled.  
'That's enough Mr. Potter.'  
'May... May I read Professor Dumbledore's letter alone?' Harry was fingering the seals, but reluctant to break them.  
'If you wish. You may borrow the Headmaster's private study.' Snape couldn't quite bring him himself to refer to it as 'his'.  
'Thank you, Sir. I know that this is hard for you.' Fawkes sensed the mood, and flew around the room, agitated.  
'You know nothing about my feelings in this matter. Now get out.' Harry was so relieved to see the old Snape returning that he ran through the indicated door, leaving the dignity of his 16 years behind him.  
'For one that could so easily have been one of your own, you treat him harshly, Severus.' Surprised, the new Headmaster looked up. 'Yes, he would have done well in Slytherin. Yet he chose Gryffindor, and not simply through some foolish sentimentality. He knew better than to obey his baser instincts.'  
'And you're saying I didn't.'  
'Not at all, Severus. You were a difficult one - you could have been in any house, but your ambition to be recognised outstripped any other emotion.' Fawkes sang, a quavering note, tears falling down his feathers. 'Even the bird feels its losses. You lost a great friend and protector today. You are allowed to mourn.'  
The hat sat still on the desk, unwilling to talk further. Fawkes rested his head on Snape's shoulder, and they sat in silence.  
Harry could be heard in the other room, pacing about, before coming to an abrupt pause. Finally a stillness reigned over the two rooms, broken only by the swallows outside coming in for the night into the forest.  
Snape picked up his scrolls from Dumbledore, before coming to sit on the floor beneath the windows, his head in his hands.  
  
Harry sat next door, unknowingly mimicking Snape. His scar was hurting, echoes of spells being cast were filling his head - curses, hexes, simple tortures - petrificus totalis, then 'aqua' - Chinese water torture.  
Then finally 'Crucio' before he blacked out, crying.  
  
Hours later he came to, to find a small bottle of a particular healing potion sitting beside him. Snape had left a parchment and quill next to him on the chair by the window seat, with a note to the effect that he should record the events that he had 'seen'. The potion was particularly effective against most curse pains. Gratefully, Harry drank the vial, feeling a tingling go through his body, sending it back to normal. He wrote down what he could remember - seeing Voldemort standing among his Death Eaters, Dumbledore's body in the midst of them, shaven bare, disrobed, and flayed.  
A man had been tortured as a spy, but he did not know the name. Voldemort had cast no spells - his magic was weak, but his hatred was strong, stronger than ever. Another was a Muggle, tortured for sport. She was accused of seducing a wizard, using him for her own ends. She screamed, denying it, as they toyed with her, before finally killing her. The water torture was reserved for her husband, forced to watch.  
Drawing all his strength, Harry wrote it down, and handed the message to Fawkes, who promptly disappeared. Alone, Harry began to read the letter from Dumbledore.  
  
  
_ Dear Harry,  
  
I was hoping that the time would not come when you would read this letter, that I would be able to explain this in person. As it is, this was not to be, and I leave you and the school in the capable hands of Professor Snape. He is to be trusted, even if you cannot see your way to liking each other. No matter what the history of animosity between yourselves, there are ties that bind that run deeper than any superficial animosity. That he will be the youngest Headmaster in Hogwart's History should tell you the high esteem in which he is regarded by myself and others.  
  
You will make your choices as you see fit, but let yourself be guided by what you know to be right - do not let anyone else take your choices away from you. Your ability to resist the Imperius Curse shows an independence of mind that is quite remarkable, cast as it was by an immensely powerful wizard. Do not throw away what you have for frivolities, but neither deny yourself the simple pleasures - it is easy to become either an ascetic or an aesthete, far better to strike the middle ground.  
  
The magic that protects you is deep and powerful, magic that Voldemort himself cannot begin to understand, let alone harness. No one can truly harness it, that magic lets us use it. He uses Old Magic, overcoming the laws of the universe not because he is truly powerful, but because they have already been overcome by a greater force. In some the magic is so powerful it is in their very skin - as it is in yours. You radiate the love that has been bestowed on you by your parents, Sirius, Remus, Ron, and Hermione. Voldemort has none of that.  
  
Some of the magic is from your blood family - rarely will anyone be truly abandoned by their kin. Where that happens it is truly devastating, and the individual is to be pitied as much as hated for their subsequent actions. Not all are evil, they choose their family, but that deep bond between kin is missing, and the hurt is still there. For those that have been loved, the kin they choose will be imbued with that love, and shown emotion they never thought possible.  
  
Voldemort took your blood, but it is little, compared to the strength that you have. There are some superficial benefits, but it changes not the core. Now you have choices to be made, choices which will put you against friends, against family, and even against yourself. When you are tired, hungry, alone, and abandoned, then it is easy to give up, let yourself go, and leave behind the task to which no one but yourself knows you are set. Only you will know, and you will be doing it for yourself. When you are ready to know the whole of that task, speak to Professor Snape. As Headmaster he will have the scrolls and the parchments wherein I speak. You will have the key to them. Do not think yourself ready from impatience, nor ask from impertinence. Ask because it is what has to be done.  
  
You are not a weak wizard, born only for one purpose, whose power will be spent in one battle. You were born to live, Harry. I know in part what you are called to do, and why. There are many things to which you have been born - an inheritance of money, of power, influence, and intelligence. But with that also comes destiny, Noblesse Oblige. To have one, means to have the other, you may throw off one, but then you must leave it all behind, not simply hold onto the bits that you like, that you enjoy. When you raised Godric's sword, you raised your birthright - bravery and honor, when you showed your loyalty, you found a friend - I leave you to care for Fawkes; he will be a good friend to both you and Severus. I ask you now to find your brains and your cunning, qualities you have in abundance. We none of us are simply one sort of person, fitting simply into one house.  
  
Enclosed with this you will find a list on enchantments pertaining to you, and their effects, and in the letter I have written to Severus will be the details of the scrolls and their prophecies. Be gentle with him, Harry. He may not to you be a nice man, but he is a good man, one to whom Fawkes has flown many times.  
  
I bless you now, in Aslan's Name,  
  
Albus Dumbledore._   
  
  
Harry let the tears fill his eyes, the pain of the last few days finally taking its toll. In the main study he could hear voices, some familiar, others not so. Snape was giving instructions to the house elves. He looked up as Harry walked in.  
'There are scrolls here, and here. You may read them as you wish. I have no doubt I shall not be rid of your troublesome countenance as much as usual this summer.  If you are unwell go to the hospital wing. I have things to do.' Snape returned his eyes to his own scroll, while Fawkes tried to smooth Harry's hair. It was dark now, and as he walked through the corridors of Hogwarts a shadow seemed to cover it. Madam Pomfrey was unsurprised to see Harry there, and bustled him into a side room.  
  
At the other side of the castle, Snape rubbed his eyes, and yawned. The waning moon had risen, and the stars shone brightly. He re-read the first of the scrolls he had been given. The students would be leaving as soon as possible; he would have the silence he craved in a few short hours. There was still the leaving feast tomorrow night, but no cup to award. His eyes had reached the end of the parchment, but he still hadn't absorbed a word. Slowly, he read it again.  
  
_Dear Severus,  
  
I am sorry, dear boy, that we never finished our last game of chess. Nor did I ever get a chance to show you the best of Palestrina Mozart or thousands of other interests that we shared. And now you are headmaster, my chosen successor, my anointed one. It is the prerogative of the Headmaster to name his successor, yet it is one seldom exercised - many fail to realise their mortality, and put the decision off until it is too late.  
  
You are wondering why I chose you, of all people for the task that is set before you. Minerva McGonagall would seem to be the obvious choice - she has been my deputy for many years, and knows the running of the school, and yet she does not wish for more than she has, nor would the position suit her. She loves her classes, and her children, something that I do not think can be said so readily of you. And yet you love the school, and you will seek to defend and protect every one of those within its walls and under its Aegis. You are the youngest Headmaster, and have the potential to be one of its greatest - a finer mind I have yet to come across, and so loyal to those you love that you would die. Your Slytherin cunning I need say nothing of, for that is a virtue you prize in yourself, and yet you downgrade it as something that is not worthy, nor so noble as other attributes. You have trod a dangerous path these twenty years, and now it seems I have made the path narrower and the drops more steep. Yet in this position is the greatest safety - within you is balanced the dark and the light, and in this position is balanced great power and strength, power that you have shown yourself worthy of, and strength you have in abundance. In short you demonstrate the qualities of all four houses, not simply your own, in a way that no other is so able. If you question this, then you need only look at Fawkes. He has come to you many, many times, thanking you for your great loyalty to me. Even when you lied with your lips he knew what was in your heart. I leave him to you and to Harry - Harry has lost Hedwig, and will be a better place to keep him, than have your loyalty to me shown through all the world. Yet he will come to you, and spend time with you. You would have been great, no matter what house you chose - and yet your ambition placed you in Slytherin.  
  
We have spoken many times, and yet I do not believe you truly understand that you are redeemed in the eyes of those that matter. There are fools that cannot see you for your true worth, and there are those blinded by hate and prejudice, and there are those that do not wish to see.  
  
Harry Potter - he has a destiny, as do you. You are both much beloved, and both marked. I trust you to help him, and to guide him. The burden is not only yours, but you know well what he must do. It is not his fault, but nor is it simple. And it will carry great costs, and great burdens. It must be done not because it has to be done, but because he wants to do it, and understands what is needed. He cannot be dismissed, Severus, simply as a child, an inexperienced innocent. He may not have all that is desirable in a wizard, but yet he has many qualities that are to be wanted and are yet noted by their absence in all but a very few wizards and witches.  
  
You were right, dear boy, about many things. But about one, you are wrong. You are forgiven. Find it in your heart to forgive those that have wronged you. The old magic is surpassed by a far greater magic, that of forgiveness, compassion. You do not like the words, they speak of weakness. But where we can show weakness, vulnerability, we are possibly at our strongest because then we know the strengths of our souls. A wizard's debt implies that a life is for a life, a soul for a soul. But no two people can cancel each other out entirely. Harry is not a good Voldemort. Neither was I. You were not then a bad person, nor are you now entirely a good person. You are simply Severus Snape, in whom I am well pleased.  
  
I leave you a great legacy, one that I trust you to use wisely. There are many scrolls for you to peruse, and I have done my best to document the ancient magic that is woven into this place for you. Some you will find for yourself. I leave you a list of certain and particular enchantments that you should be aware of. I trust your discretion in all things, and your sound good sense. Be not proud to ask for help, nor sorry if all is not accomplished in a day. Have high standards, but do not expect too much  
  
And may the blessings of the winds come upon you, and in the name of the founders four I command you to take up your mantle and enter as Headmaster of Hogwarts. From the North, the Quill of Rowena, to endow you with wisdom and common sense, from South, Helga's robe, warmth and friendship to be with you always, To East, Godric's Sword, the strength of our cause, and the sword of what is right, and from West, Salazar's boots to carry you through all the dark places you must walk. And from me, the love and blessings of the Lion, the Badger, the Eagle and the Serpent.  
  
Yours, in Aslan's name,  
  
Albus Dumbledore_   
  
He warded the doors, and left his study for the solace of his dungeons. Lighting a cigarette, he leant back in his chair. Arabella Figg was addressing Slytherin now.  Probably she had already done it. The school was unnaturally quiet, especially for the end of term. Exhausted by the day's events, he slept.  
  
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	3. The Leaving

The Leaving   
  
The castle murmured softly, audible above a silence that was unnatural for a thousand teenagers. Exam results had been posted, but nobody cheered. The morning light seemed incongruous with the events of the last few days. The Magic of the castle was upset, there was no balance any more - a simple spell could knock you sideways, and a complicated enchantment was bound to fail.  
Dumbledore's presence was gone, the sunshine and lemonade that sparkled about the place. House colours were no longer in evidence, the hour-glasses in the Hall were set to nought, and every fire place in the castle was damped down.  
  
Fang was by Tumnus' hut, a juicy bone in his mouth, although the faun was no longer in evidence. Voldemort's essence was in the forest, a dry taste of salt and sand, that flowed around the stones. At the heart of the castle, a compass was spinning, showing the direction of the flows of magic. Over it lay the body of Albus Dumbledore, returned to the castle that morning.  
  
At the compass points stood the Heads of the Houses, each facing outward in silent tribute, heads bowed, hands clasped. A drumbeat echoed to wake the castle - nothing so cheerful as a bell, and still there was no sound. The feathers of the school owls had been charmed to black and grey, and they carried their burdens gracefully to their destination.   
  
In the Great Hall the ceiling had gone out - all that was there were the rafters, awaiting the new Headmaster, who would awaken the stars again. Students walked steadily to their places, whispers intermittent, silence freezing the individuals again.  
  
Harry walked into the chamber where the compass lay, and looked at the coffin. THe Founders Hall had no furniture, save the bier over the compass. The Ghosts had gathered, and now one of them had taken up the drum, beating a steady rhythm that shook the castle. One by one students filed past, wanting to be sure that Dumbledore was gone. They were joined by the villagers of Hogsmeade, who were waiting at the gates of the castle, and later by the whole of the wizarding world. Not a sound broke the lonely vigil, save for the drum beats. Each ghost took a turn, the sound was truly a resonance of the underworld, the next great adventure.  
  
The day drew on, and still they came. Snape, Flitwick, McGonagall and Sprout stood there, dry-eyed, until Terry Boot, Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy and Justin Finch-Fletchley came up, and took their places. Hannah Abbot, Cho Chang, Virginia Weasley and Jenny Flint joined them, house loyalties forgotten. The four teachers made their obeisance to the coffin, and left the Hall.  
  
In the middle of it all was Fawkes, a picture of dignity in the midst of sorrow. His head was bowed, but his gaudy plumage stood out in the waves of black. By evening it felt like most of the wizarding world had come to Hogwarts. As dusk came, a single note filled the room, and the doors of the castle clanged shut. The students were assembled in the Great Hall already, and now the watching 8 joined them.  
  
In the middle of the room was the sorting hat, resting on its stool. The students remained standing, as it began to sing.  
  
Cast not your spells, put away your wand  
Mourn the one you miss, all throughout this land  
Let your eyes be dimmed with the drops that fall  
The tears are not confined just to this one great hall  
  
He was the north and south, the east and west  
The sparkling wit, the formal best  
The cried on shoulder, the laughed with man  
Grace and truth they cloaked him, as only friendship can  
  
Let the broomsticks circle widely, writing overhead  
This message with their wands 'Dumbledore is dead'  
And let them once again, circle here encore  
A new headmaster has been chosen, rejoice, again, once more  
  
Let laughter ring here once again, sweets and jokes be shared  
Remember all the old times, remember how he cared  
And in the darkening hours, when your heart is sore  
Remember the warming presence, of Albus Dumbledore.  
  
The hat paused, letting the words echo around the room. No applause came, it didn't seem appropriate. Snape walked forward to pick up the hat, tall and erect. A bird flew in, Fawkes, and picked up the sorting hat. Snape banished the stool, and then took his accustomed place.  
"Much has happened, little of which you are aware. You will not always be so ignorant, nor will you always be in such safety. If you are wise, you will keep your wits about you, and your wand to your hand, that the death of the Headmaster will be not in vain.  
I speak plainly - we live in changing times. There is a dark power rising, and it controls much of this land. It is your choice - to fight it or to join it, but one that you alone must make. The fools among you, of which there are many, will rush in, following the well trod paths, unable to think for yourselves what your own path is. It is your choices that make you, not your friend's, not your father's.  
I will not coddle you, nor will I hide the truth from you unnecessarily. The Dementors of Azkaban are free, as are many of the prisoners therein. You cannot always trust those you think you know. To those that are leaving us for good, know that you are always welcome here, and that you will find a home. I bid you eat."  
Food appeared before them, and Severus sat down, half-turning to Minerva. She nodded curtly, and passed him the rolls, one of which he broke on his plate.  
"Albus' words?"  
"Mostly. Written for me to say."  
"I noticed."  
Theirs was the only conversation at the High Table. At the far end of the Hall sat Harry Potter, looking directly at him. Snape acknowledged him with a nod, and took only such food as he might actually eat, which was but little. Most of the students were taking in his words, so different from his habitual sarcasm of the classroom, or the warmth of the dead headmaster.  
Harry barely ate, leaving at the first opportunity. Walking towards the lake, he looked towards Hogsmeade station, where the Express stood in the sidings, a gloomy scarlet, dulled by the evening light. Ginny stood beside him, not speaking, and Ron and Hermione were among the trees a hundred yards away.  
Snape himself was sitting on a rock that jutted out over the lake, one leg dangling over the water, the other clasped to his shoulder, with his head resting there, looking oddly vulnerable, if they could have seen him. Fawkes was sat on his lap, also invisible, watching the scene.  
Most of the seventh year and staff were outside, scattered in groups of four or five, the teachers inconspicuous, but in evidence. Ron and Hermione were stroking the squid, watching Draco, who was out on the bluff, wind catching his hair, not looking at anyone.   
  
  
With the exception of the Slytherins, and even then only certain individuals, the train was quiet as it headed for King's Cross. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny were sitting in silence. Ginny stroked Crookshanks, while Hermione held Pig for Ron.  
Even the witch on the trolley had little to say. Hermione transfigured a trunk into a table for four, but none felt much like playing. The three older ones got out their holiday work, and decided silently on their coursework for potions. Ginny dozed in the corner, her hand resting on Harry's lap.  
They finished quickly, no one knew what was going to happen, and the only way any sense of normalcy could be maintained at school was if the teachers enforced what schoolwork they gave out. McGonagall's words from third year haunted them 'if you're dead then I won't expect you to hand in your homework'. Somehow doing their homework lessened their expectations of being dead.  
  
Sometime after Doncaster Ginny stirred, and Ron and Hermione raised the arm-rest, and cuddled up. Harry lifted Ginny, and rested her head in his lap, stroking her soft red hair.  
"So, what's going on here?" Blond hair followed the interruption.  
"Shut up, Malfoy." Hermione pinned Ron with her hand between his legs as Ron replied reflexively. Hermione was a little more circumspect.  
"What's happening?"  
"Just thought I'd do a quick check on the train. Do either of you prefects wish to join me?" He snickered at Ron and Harry, Ron who had no prefect badge yet, and Harry who was captain of Quidditch, and exempt from normal duties. Ginny looked up and fixed him with a glare, before responding.  
"Harry has full prefect status this year. As you well know. Just not the duties."  
"Think you're too good for them, Potter?"  
"No. I think I'll join you. Hermione?" Hermione shook her head, and Ginny and Harry stood up. For some reason Malfoy looked pleased.  
"So, you finally deign to do what the rest of us have to do."  
"When you stop cheating at Quidditch, I'll have time for prefect duties, instead of playing nursemaid."There was little bite in Harry's retort. "Where are your little friends?"  
"I told them it was a Head Boy thing."  
"You?" All four looked up at his nonchalance. He grinned, grateful that Ron was still pinned.  
"Professor Snape insisted on it. Granger's Head Girl." Leaving Hermione in open-mouthed shock they started down the corridor, looking in on each compartment, Ginny walking slightly ahead of them while the boys talked.  
"What's going on Malfoy?"  
"I don't know. Dumbledore's dead, Snape's Headmaster, Fudge has been removed." Malfoy cast a privacy charm around them all. "I thought I knew what was right. Then they killed Zabini's parents. Because they felt like it. Because Zabini was a better businessman than Avery. I was there." Harry looked at him. He knew Draco had changed that year, but didn't realise this was it.  
"I don't like it. I don't go with Mudbloods in Hogwarts either."  
"Why?"  
"Because it was Mudbloods that got my family burnt. They didn't know how to act like witches. Drew attention to themselves. They come in changing the laws, changing customs, not seeing why we've done what we've done. Look at some of them. Thomas is more of a wizard than most wizards, yet he still can't fit in." The hatred was palpable. Harry looked at him, strangely.  
"On the subject of blood, I don't think we'll ever agree, but I think we can agree that pointless slaughter is wrong." Ginny nodded at Harry's words, playing no further part in the conversation, but still within earshot.  
"I don't want to kill anyone. Diggory was from an old family, yet he was a spare. I just don't want to lose everything I've ever known." Harry and Ginny nodded. "Dumbledore was good to me. He knew I hated him, but he respected me, listened to me. No one does that."  
They neared the end of the train. The silence was oppressive. Harry and Draco bought some pumpkin juice and some chocolate frogs for the others, and turned back.  
"Don't think this makes us friends, Potter, neither do I want to kill you. Any of you. Though I'd rather Granger wasn't in the school, she's not stupid. Potter - you're from an old family, as old as mine. And wealthy. And yet they want to kill you."  
"Voldemort wants to kill me." By now it was Ginny who was doing most of the checking, leaving Draco and Harry to talk.  
"If anyone asks, we were talking about Quidditch - I'm team captain this year." Harry nodded.  
"I'm thinking that we need to organise a formal schedule, make sure practice is distributed evenly. I'd like to start having second teams. Release some of the tensions. Or else play 5th years against 6th or 7th. Try and bite down some of the rivalries."  
Malfoy looked surprised. "Have you ever considered why it doesn't happen already?"  
"Because people care more about house rivalries, than what it means to play Quidditch well? Because it's tradition?"  
"Because last time it was done, people died. Not cause and effect, but a startling correlation. Or do you think it's beneath you to learn about your kind."  
"Oh. I was thinking of doing it where people found 6 others, from at least one other house. No more than one house team member per game."  
"It wouldn't work. The Slytherins would never agree and without their backing it couldn't work. You'd be jeered."  
"Like I'm not already? They'd all do that?" Malfoy had the good grace to shake his head.  
"No, but there's enough to enforce it. And there's no point in making sport political."  
"Like it's not already. When you guys go out to kill me every time I play."  
"Oh, that's not political, Potter, that's personal." Draco gave a genuine smile. "Not that it wouldn't have some major political benefits without the drawbacks of Azkaban."  
They looked in on some Slytherins who were laughing and joking, about the only source of noise on the whole train. Malfoy scowled, and made some comment on their un-Slytherin lack of subtlety, and the three finished up their round wordlessly.  
  
Ron seemed surprised they were still alive. That is, when they managed to break the obscuro, silentio, and privacy charms surrounding their compartment. Hermione's buttons were done up in a different order, but otherwise she seemed quite composed.  
Draco had gone back to the Slytherin compound further down. Ginny and Harry didn't talk about what had been said. Ron and Hermione wouldn't understand. Instead they started on differences between M uggles and Wizards.  
"Well, you know that Sirius and Co are still considered young? I mean, Snape's the youngest headmaster by about a hundred years." Ginny smiled as she spoke.  
"So it's not weird they're single? Remus, and Sirius, and Snape and them." Harry's voice was bemused.  
"No - I mean, your parents are different, because of the times they lived in, but mostly people don't marry till loads later. I mean, you risk being married to someone for 100 years if you're a wizard. No wonder there's such a high suicide rate."  
"Ron!" Sister and Girlfriend hexed him casually. He squirmed under the tickling, only to see Harry sitting back.  
"Help me, you're supposed to be my friend!C'mon Harry."  
"I'm not getting in the way of my girlfriend." He removed the hexes, and sat back quietly.   
"So Harry's parents were really unusual?"   
"Not for Muggle-borns. They tend to marry younger. Magical fertility is the same in both Muggle-borns and Purebloods. It's only prejudice. That and familial pressure to have grandchildren. Really old families used to make a point of marrying really late, just so that everyone knew. And they'd only have one, maybe two children. It all changed with Voldemort. People were scared of losing their kids. And we've only got lots of kids , because we wanted at least one girl. And mum wanted lots of kids. She'd have had more, if it weren't for everything else..."  
"Oh." Ron looked upset at Ginny's words, but she continued without noticing his response.  
"Our parents - well, mum's nearing 70. She was at school with McGonagall, you know. And Dad's 70 next birthday. McGonagall was a prefect when they were kids."  
"Wow." It hadn't occurred to Harry his parents were out of the ordinary.  
"There are some that marry young. I mean, the Lestranges got married right out of school. There are all sorts of guesses why. And it's not unusual for there to be 20 or 30 year age gaps. Hell, some people have married teachers." Ron squirmed at the thought as he voiced it.   
"So did they have a child? The Lestranges I mean - they were big Voldemort supporters." This was Ginny.  
"It was assumed if they did it went to Voldemort. No one ever saw one. The Wedding was all over the prophet. No one mentioned it at the trial. But for Purebloods they were unusual, to say the least. Oh, of course there are love matches, in the Wizarding world." Hermione was looking scandalised at him. "And it's frequently people they knew at school. But often there's a ten year gap. For all we're allowed to use magic at 17, we're not seen as grown-ups much before 30."  
"But Snape was teaching in his 20s."  
"He also was invited to school a year early - no one knows how they convinced the book to send out the invitation. And he's widely regarded as one of the greatest Potions Masters ever. Even Sirius said that much." For Harry's Godfather to say that meant a great deal.   
"Most of his stuff was published under Dumbledore's name - no one would accept it under his own. Not after the downfall of Voldemort. I found some of his early stuff one day in 'Potions', but it stops around 1982. Dumbledore hadn't published for 50 years. Then it starts cropping up again. I put two and two together. That, and some of the anonymous stuff." Harry goggled at Hermione. "He also understands more languages than Barty Crouch Senior. Tell that to Percy."  
"How do you girls know all this?" Hermione answered Ron first.   
"I started to research him for Modern Magic*. Our extended essays can be on anything - I started doing it on the re-integration of society after the downfall of Voldemort."  
"And Snape told you?"  
"No. But Dumbledore helped me. So did Remus. He suffered with it as well - Dark Creature, Dark Lord, QED." Harry digested this new information rapidly.  
The train seemed to be slowing down. Like the Knight Bus, everything else on the tracks presumably got out of the way. After all, a red steam train going down the East Coast Main Line was somewhat unusual - after all GNER livery was blue, and electric.  
They were passing through North London now, the glass of the Alexandra Palace glinting with the setting sun. Harry gathered his things together, transfiguring his robes into jeans and a t-shirt. "I wish I could do this with all my clothes. Wandless Magic does tend to come in useful. Normally I'm so mad about Dudley's things that they shrink to fit me."  
"I was going to wait until the platform, but you might want to read this." Hermione gave him a small book, and then followed it with a larger one. "This one's about wandless magic, and that one's about a form of meditation. Basically it's about thinking through situations, and then working out how you might deal with them. Or else imagining yourself to be someone else, or something else, andhow you might respond. You can practice with stories. I thought it might help your focus for wandless stuff. Sirius should be able to help as well. It should make it a lot easier round the Dursleys." Harry tucked them into his clothes - he'd enchanted plenty of pockets.  
"Can you put a glamour on my wand? M ake it look like a fountain pen?" Ginny and Ron looked confused at Harry's request. "It's a kind of quill - Muggles use it."  
"I know - but why's it called a FOUNTAIN pen? I mean..." Ron shut up at Hermione's glare.  
"Because it can make a fountain of ink? I don't know. I just want to have it handy. I've got a quaffle charm on it, so it won't fall out of my pocket - it sticks it there." Hermione quickly muttered the charm, and gave it back to Harry.  
"Look, I know you don't have an owl now. If you want to borrow Pig - well, it's thanks to your God-father that I've even got him."   
"Thanks, Ron."  
  
They got off the train, Harry picking up his enchanted trunk. Somehow he always got everything into it. Dudleyalways complained he never had enough things, and he took an entire car-full to Smeltings. Before he went through the barrier, a hand brushed his shoulder. Ginny kissed him quickly, and headed to where her elder brothers were waiting.  
"Hiya, Cho. You OK?"  
"Yeah. It's OK Emma, I'll be with you in a minute." She nodded to her friend Emma Fawcett, who was standing with Alison Moon, Terry Boot, and Carys Kitson, fellow Ravenclaws.  
"She lives near the Diggories and the Weasleys, doesn't she?"  
"Yeah - not far. They're all going back together. I still miss Cedric. But I wanted to say goodbye. And thank you. For everything." She hugged Harry awkwardly.  
"It's OK. Look, if you want to keep in touch, your Owl should be able to find me. And I'll be over at the Weasleys this summer."  
"I live near Hermione now, so we should be able to stay in touch." Cho's face was sad for a minute. "Look, my sister's going to mutiny - She wants to get back to something. Come over, I'll introduce you. Cynthia, this is Harry. Harry, my sister, Cynthia Chang. Cynthia's been working on the dragon reserves in Scotland . She collects some of the magical specimens up there - mostly for potions ingredients - things like dragonsfoot beetle, and fire trefoil."  
"Cool. You know about me and horntails."  
"Charlie told me." Their eyes lit up, and Cho double checked that Ginny wasn't about. She knew what her sister could be like, even if she was 10 years too old for Harry.  
"Look - if you want to owl me, here's the address - maybe we can meet up in Diagon Alley." Harry stopped to think. He'd be 17 in a month's time, and free, to an extent. "Sure. Looking forward to it." New friends, adult friends, would be welcome.   
Cho turned round to him quickly. "Look, do you know what's going on. Only - well, no one knows. Most of the Dementors have left Azkaban. All the Death Eaters in there have escaped. Including the Lestranges, and loads of others. Rosier, Wilkes, that lot. They tell you more than they tell the Aurors. Dad knows nothing. Neither does Mum. Not that they're telling us much."  
Harry shook his head. They went through the barrier last of all, having watched some of the others Port-Key off the station. Some of them Apparated, or caught Muggle forms of transport. Some Flooed in from magic fires conjured illegally on the platform. The Weasleys had already gone.  
The Dursleys weren't there. Professor Figg had come to pick him up - and she was standing there.  
"I thought you weren't coming back. Not till Ginny said you were talking to the Changs."  
"Sorry."  
"We need to talk." It was only then he noticed the expression on her face.   
  
Snape walked into the Great Hall, and levitated himself into the ceiling. The blue sky of a summer's day enveloped him as he perched among the candles, banishing all draperies and furniture, and leaving the Hall empty so that Filch would be able to clean it, making ready for the preparations for the Sorting of a Headmaster.  
He'd never seen it - Albus had always been Headmaster here as far as he knew. Of course Dippet had preceded him. Approximately even numbers of the four houses were represented in the roll.  
In the library the honours boards had been updated. There were many there - from the Great Persecutions onwards there were the names of the fallen, the Masters of the school, rather than simply professors. And the Headmasters.  
Shimmering in Gold at the bottom - Albus Dumbledore 1845 - 1997 Professor 1870 - 1970 Master of Alchemy 1901 Master of Transfiguration 1919 Headmaster 1970 - 1997.  
Snape ran his wand over the board, and the details of individual achievements appeared. Most Professors hadn't been continually at the school, and with lives so long it was necessary simply to out line the bare bones of illustrious careers. His own entry was on the Masters board. The youngest ever.   
Severus Snape 1961 - still alive. Master of Potions 1982.   
That he had attained a Mastery of Languages was never acknowledged. No one wanted to know. So much for knowledge alone being untainted by evil.  
Dumbledore had simply done other things before becoming a master. He could have got it as early as Severus had.  
  
Severus passed onto the other Honours boards. 'In life we miss them, In Death we honour them' - the newest board. At the top, Cedric Diggory, then Rubeus Hagrid, Professor, and Keeper of the Keys and Grounds. More names. Ricardo Zabini, killed by his own side. Then Avril Nott - killed by Aurors in front of her younger sister, at a Death Eater raid. A couple of other names, then Albus Dumbledore, with the dates that he was a student.   
Unlike the ministry memorials, they mentioned all students of the school, no matter which side they fell to. Even Tom Riddle would be mentioned here, if they actually managed to kill him. Not that many people would associate him with Voldemort. And if he actually appeared, then they knew he was dead.  
He walked to the next memorial. He read the names of the class of '78, his own. And realised that Peter Pettigrew wasn't there. He'd assumed that this was an oversight, because he was mentioned on other memorials, complete with his Order of Merlin, but then noticed that others bought in after the fall were there. He hadn't looked for years. Not until after the night in the shrieking shack.  
Flicking his wand over the board, it showed a moving portrait of each individual, as they were when they were last seen as a student. Lily Potter (nee Evans). James Potter. Going back 3 years, Serena Llewellyn (nee Snape). Then 2 more years Christopher Black, Sirius's father. Further up still, 5 of the Weasley brothers, Arthur's siblings.   
  
Snape stood for some minutes, tall and proud, before moving to the next board, the beginnings of the great persecutions: here the names of the old families stood out - Slytherin himself lost his sisters, Malfoy, Fawcette, Goyle, Snape, Weasley, McGonagall, McBoon, Potter, Beruna, Dumbledore, Wolfsbane, de Paravel. None of the great families had survived unscathed. He returned to the study.  
  
"Miss Lestrange. I was under the impression that you had returned on the school train. Would you care to enlighten me as to your purpose in being here?"   
"My parents met me and Apparated me back to Hogsmeade." They were standing outside the Headmaster's study, where she had been waiting for him.  
"Ah, Severus. We were looking forward to seeing you again. I think there is a minor debt to settle." Two invisibility cloaks cast aside, two grey dangerous faces meeting his own, sallow one.   
"I did warn him he wasn't very popular in Azkaban. Expelliarmus." Three wands came to the hand of the speaker, who was somewhat breathless. "These will be returned at the apparition barrier. I think all business has been concluded for the time being. Unless you wished to speak to Miss Lestrange, Severus?" Sirius Black's pale eyes glittered in the dark corridor.   
"I think that might be a good idea. Miss Lestrange?" The Ravenclaw nodded, and walked to the Headmaster's study beside her Potions Master. Giving the password, they took the staircase, and stood in silence in the story.  
"Finite Incantatem in toto" He ran his wand over her quickly, watching as her hair came undone, and the make-up left her face. She looked furious. "A necessary precaution, I'm sure you'll agree. Take a seat."  
"You lied to me. You knew, and you lied." She remained standing as she spoke, quite still.  
"You never thought to ask me for the truth? Dear me. For a Ravenclaw you aren't very bright sometimes. After your little show of temper the other day, I thought you might have calmed down."  
"How much else do you know?"  
"A great many things, most of which I have neither time nor inclination to show you. Some of which, even if I had the inclination, I am not allowed to show you. But the arcana of Potions and Alchemy I think is not the subject of this discussion. You have choices to make. The truth hurts, but it can also heal. Your parents were in Azkaban for a reason. Do not follow blindly, but make your choices accordingly."  
"Can I be known by my name, my real name next term?"  
"What is your 'real' name? what makes your name real? The name of your parents, or the name you are known by? Or is it your secret name for yourself? There is no such thing as an ordinary, everyday name, Miss Lestrange."  
"Then why do you call me Miss Lestrange."  
"To let you grow accustomed to hearing it. You know the associations with that name. You may bear it, and make it a worthy name. You may bear it to redeem it, or to besmirch it, or simply to use it to make a name for yourself through someone else's notoriety."  
"Better that, than a borrowed shapeless cover-all."   
"Indeed, Miss Lestrange. I think you should consider that you might not be the only one in this school that does not have the name of their birthright. That someone else saw fit to deny them their name."  
"What about Potter - him only known for his parents. And for killing Cedric, and hurting Cho."  
"That is enough. This is not about Potter. Nor is it about Longbottom, Bones or any other member of this school."  
"No. It's about Truth. And it's about Justice." She left, pausing only for the staircase. "And you will face both, you bastard."  
Snape recoiled. Twenty minutes later he was joined by Sirius Black.  
"What are you doing here, Black?" They had composed themselves after their earlier shocks, although Sirius was a little breathless after his exercise.  
"I smelt them at King's Cross - they reek of Azkaban, even after a bath and under invisibility cloaks. I heard them Apparate, and followed. I guessed they'd come here."  
"So now, not only do I owe Potter my life, I owe it to you as well. And Lupin. Shall I add Pettigrew to complete the set?" Sirius snarled at Snape's flippancy. "Yes - I know he's still alive to do it."  
"And I'd rather you stayed alive. I may not like you, but Dumbledore had his reasons for trusting you. And I can remember you saying the same words where we were 16. About Truth and Justice. And I owe you my life. I think we're quits." Snape's face closed off. "Can I use your Floo?" Snape nodded, barely able to speak.  
"Arabella Figg's"  
  
Back in the Great Hall, Snape levitated to the ceiling again, checking for gaps in the enchantments around the castle.  
When Filch and McGonagall found him the next morning, he was unconscious, curled up on the floor of the Great hall, blood seeping from an open head wound, his flesh marked.  
  
  
"Your God-father was here."  
"Where is he?"  
"He said he smelt trouble. And went through the barrier to the apparition point over there.  
"I was just talking to Cho and Cynthia. Sorry."  
"It's no bother, love, you're only young once, and it's only a shame you don't get to be properly young."  
"Normally the Dursleys rush me off as quickly as possible. Where are they?"  
"Somewhere cheap tacky and ridiculously hot."  
"So where am I supposed to be staying?"  
"With me, Remus, and Sirius. And the rest of the old crowd."  
"Oh Excellent! All Summer?"  
"I think last summer proved the pointlessness of staying with the Dursleys."  
"Yes. The fact that those that wanted to could find me, and be used to get me out..."  
"Better that you're with people you want to be with in the first place. Now dear. Hold on, and we'll apparate."  
They were just round the corner from the Great Northern Hotel, and well out of sight when they popped off. They re-appeared in the middle of Professor Figg's kitchen.  
"Now, I think you've got some explaining to do, if I'm going to make it through Hogwarts next year. Yes - I'm teaching again. Along with Sirius and Remus. They're doing Duelling. There'll be a few new faces next year. Bill and Charlie Weasley are teaching. Bill's doing stuff on curses, Charlie care of Magical Creatures. I'll be doing DADA again. Fleur Delacour is teaching Junior Potions. I think the centaurs are teaching as well - Firenze has offered to teach some prophecy and strategy to certain sixth and seventh years. And I need you to tell us exactly what happened 3 days ago."  
"I don't entirely know. Neither does Snape, and we were the only two that were there, besides Dumbledore."  
"We'll wait for Remus and Sirius."  
Remus walked into the kitchen 10 minutes later, and gave Harry a hug. Sirius bounded out of the floo half an hour after that, and enveloped his beloved Godson in a hug, before ruffling his hair.  
"Sorry. I smelt trouble."  
"Trouble?"  
"I could smell fresh Azkaban. Lestrange Azkaban in fact. Particularly pungent, and I hadn't had a whiff of it in four years. So I followed them. They met their daughter, then apparated back to Hogwarts. Nice girl. Ravenclaw called Ella."  
"She must have been with Cho's friends. I don't know all of them."  
"So that's who you were saying goodbye too."  
"And Ginny." Sirius smiled.  
"It took you long enough to find her, don't go losing her."  
"It took Ron and Hermione even longer. And that was even more obvious."  
Remus coughed politely and mentioned something about elbows in butter dishes. Harry went red.  
"So what's going on. We need to know. Ministry Black-out."  
"Dark Mark is being seen about once a week. Snape is still going out to some gatherings. Aurors getting heavy handed. Fudge is going for a quick win. Snape is now Headmaster."  
"That greasy git?"  
"Sirius!"  
"I think he'll do well. There'll be a Sorting of the Headmaster of course." Arabella continued. "You've none of you seen one of those before.  
"What does that involve?"  
"You'll see. So what's going on?"  
Harry produced his letter from Dumbledore, and then started to relate the events of the last few days. How Voldemort had killed Dumbledore, in exchange for the traitor's life. How Pettigrew had been seen by enough people, with the Dark Lord, in order to put paid some lingering rumours.  
"Strategy - we don't know. Mostly isolated individuals that don't impact much on general wizarding life. Much as it has for the last two years."  
"The Lestranges would have killed Snape today, if it hadn't been for the fact I smelt them." Sirius was looking quite pleased with himself. "I don't know why I saved the greasy git, he's not exactly my brother, and he's certainly not my friend. Although I'd miss jousting with him at meetings."  
"Sirius. Be serious rather than dog-like for a moment. He's Headmaster. Chosen. to be sorted. He's Dumbledore's chosen. As is Harry. Some bonds run deeper than blood."  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~  
*Modern Magic is something akin to politics or Sociology.  
If you're wondering why you recognise the first bit, it's because it's based on the poem 'Funeral Blues' by WH Auden, from Four Weddings and a Funeral  
_ Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,  
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,  
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum  
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come  
  
Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead  
Scribbling in the sky the message He Is Dead,  
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,  
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves  
  
He was my North, my South, my East and West  
My working week and my Sunday rest  
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;  
I thought that love would last for ever: I was wrong.  
  
The stars are not wanted now; put out every one,  
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun  
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood;  
For nothing now can ever come to any good.  
_   
  
  
  
  
  
  



	4. The Great Hall

The Great Hall  
  
Snape walked into the Great Hall, and levitated himself into the ceiling. The blue sky of a summer's day enveloped him as he perched among the candles, banishing all draperies and furniture, and leaving the Hall empty so that Filch would be able to clean it, making ready for the preparations for the Sorting of a Headmaster.  
He'd never seen it - Albus had always been Headmaster here as far as he knew. Of course Dippet had preceded him. Approximately even numbers of the four houses were represented in the roll.  
In the library the honours boards had been updated. There were many there - from the Great Persecutions onwards there were the names of the fallen, the Masters of the school, rather than simply professors. And the Headmasters.  
Shimmering in Gold at the bottom - Albus Dumbledore 1845 - 1997 Professor 1870 - 1970 Master of Alchemy 1901 Master of Transfiguration 1919 Headmaster 1970 - 1997.  
Snape ran his wand over the board, and the details of individual achievements appeared. Most Professors hadn't been continually at the school, and with lives so long it was necessary simply to out line the bare bones of illustrious careers. His own entry was on the Masters board. The youngest ever.   
Severus Snape 1961 - still alive. Master of Potions 1982.   
That he had attained a Mastery of Languages was never acknowledged. No one wanted to know. So much for knowledge alone being untainted by evil.  
Dumbledore had simply done other things before becoming a master. He could have got it as early as Severus had.  
  
Severus passed onto the other Honours boards. 'In life we miss them, In Death we honour them' - the newest board. At the top, Cedric Diggory, then Rubeus Hagrid, Professor, and Keeper of the Keys and Grounds. More names. Ricardo Zabini, killed by his own side. Then Avril Nott - killed by Aurors in front of her younger sister, at a Death Eater raid. A couple of other names, then Albus Dumbledore, with the dates that he was a student.   
Unlike the ministry memorials, they mentioned all students of the school, no matter which side they fell to. Even Tom Riddle would be mentioned here, if they actually managed to kill him. Not that many people would associate him with Voldemort. And if he actually appeared, then they knew he was dead.  
He walked to the next memorial. He read the names of the class of '78, his own. And realised that Peter Pettigrew wasn't there. He'd assumed that this was an oversight, because he was mentioned on other memorials, complete with his Order of Merlin, but then noticed that others bought in after the fall were there. He hadn't looked for years. Not until after the night in the shrieking shack.  
Flicking his wand over the board, it showed a moving portrait of each individual, as they were when they were last seen as a student. Lily Potter (nee Evans). James Potter. Going back 3 years, Serena Llewellyn (nee Snape). Then 2 more years Christopher Black, Sirius's father. Further up still, 5 of the Weasley brothers, Arthur's siblings.   
  
Snape stood for some minutes, tall and proud, before moving to the next board, the beginnings of the great persecutions: here the names of the old families stood out - Slytherin himself lost his sisters, Malfoy, Fawcette, Goyle, Snape, Weasley, McGonagall, McBoon, Potter, Beruna, Dumbledore, Wolfsbane, de Paravel. None of the great families had survived unscathed. He returned to the study.  
  
"Miss Lestrange. I was under the impression that you had returned on the school train. Would you care to enlighten me as to your purpose in being here?"   
"My parents met me and Apparated me back to Hogsmeade." They were standing outside the Headmaster's study, where she had been waiting for him.  
"Ah, Severus. We were looking forward to seeing you again. I think there is a minor debt to settle." Two invisibility cloaks cast aside, two grey dangerous faces meeting his own, sallow one.   
"I did warn him he wasn't very popular in Azkaban. Expelliarmus." Three wands came to the hand of the speaker, who was somewhat breathless. "These will be returned at the apparition barrier. I think all business has been concluded for the time being. Unless you wished to speak to Miss Lestrange, Severus?" Sirius Black's pale eyes glittered in the dark corridor.   
"I think that might be a good idea. Miss Lestrange?" The Ravenclaw nodded, and walked to the Headmaster's study beside her Potions Master. Giving the password, they took the staircase, and stood in silence in the story.  
"Finite Incantatem in toto" He ran his wand over her quickly, watching as her hair came undone, and the make-up left her face. She looked furious. "A necessary precaution, I'm sure you'll agree. Take a seat."  
"You lied to me. You knew, and you lied." She remained standing as she spoke, quite still.  
"You never thought to ask me for the truth? Dear me. For a Ravenclaw you aren't very bright sometimes. After your little show of temper the other day, I thought you might have calmed down."  
"How much else do you know?"  
"A great many things, most of which I have neither time nor inclination to show you. Some of which, even if I had the inclination, I am not allowed to show you. But the arcana of Potions and Alchemy I think is not the subject of this discussion. You have choices to make. The truth hurts, but it can also heal. Your parents were in Azkaban for a reason. Do not follow blindly, but make your choices accordingly."  
"Can I be known by my name, my real name next term?"  
"What is your 'real' name? what makes your name real? The name of your parents, or the name you are known by? Or is it your secret name for yourself? There is no such thing as an ordinary, everyday name, Miss Lestrange."  
"Then why do you call me Miss Lestrange."  
"To let you grow accustomed to hearing it. You know the associations with that name. You may bear it, and make it a worthy name. You may bear it to redeem it, or to besmirch it, or simply to use it to make a name for yourself through someone else's notoriety."  
"Better that, than a borrowed shapeless cover-all."   
"Indeed, Miss Lestrange. I think you should consider that you might not be the only one in this school that does not have the name of their birthright. That someone else saw fit to deny them their name."  
"What about Potter - him only known for his parents. And for killing Cedric, and hurting Cho."  
"That is enough. This is not about Potter. Nor is it about Longbottom, Bones or any other member of this school."  
"No. It's about Truth. And it's about Justice." She left, pausing only for the staircase. "And you will face both, you bastard."  
Snape recoiled. Twenty minutes later he was joined by Sirius Black.  
"What are you doing here, Black?" They had composed themselves after their earlier shocks, although Sirius was a little breathless after his exercise.  
"I smelt them at King's Cross - they reek of Azkaban, even after a bath and under invisibility cloaks. I heard them Apparate, and followed. I guessed they'd come here."  
"So now, not only do I owe Potter my life, I owe it to you as well. And Lupin. Shall I add Pettigrew to complete the set?" Sirius snarled at Snape's flippancy. "Yes - I know he's still alive to do it."  
"And I'd rather you stayed alive. I may not like you, but Dumbledore had his reasons for trusting you. And I can remember you saying the same words where we were 16. About Truth and Justice. And I owe you my life. I think we're quits." Snape's face closed off. "Can I use your Floo?" Snape nodded, barely able to speak.  
"Arabella Figg's"  
  
Back in the Great Hall, Snape levitated to the ceiling again, checking for gaps in the enchantments around the castle.  
When Filch and McGonagall found him the next morning, he was unconscious, curled up on the floor of the Great hall, blood seeping from an open head wound, his flesh marked.  
  
  
"Your God-father was here."  
"Where is he?"  
"He said he smelt trouble. And went through the barrier to the apparition point over there.  
"I was just talking to Cho and Cynthia. Sorry."  
"It's no bother, love, you're only young once, and it's only a shame you don't get to be properly young."  
"Normally the Dursleys rush me off as quickly as possible. Where are they?"  
"Somewhere cheap tacky and ridiculously hot."  
"So where am I supposed to be staying?"  
"With me, Remus, and Sirius. And the rest of the old crowd."  
"Oh Excellent! All Summer?"  
"I think last summer proved the pointlessness of staying with the Dursleys."  
"Yes. The fact that those that wanted to could find me, and be used to get me out..."  
"Better that you're with people you want to be with in the first place. Now dear. Hold on, and we'll apparate."  
They were just round the corner from the Great Northern Hotel, and well out of sight when they popped off. They re-appeared in the middle of Professor Figg's kitchen.  
"Now, I think you've got some explaining to do, if I'm going to make it through Hogwarts next year. Yes - I'm teaching again. Along with Sirius and Remus. They're doing Duelling. There'll be a few new faces next year. Bill and Charlie Weasley are teaching. Bill's doing stuff on curses, Charlie care of Magical Creatures. I'll be doing DADA again. Fleur Delacour is teaching Junior Potions. I think the centaurs are teaching as well - Firenze has offered to teach some prophecy and strategy to certain sixth and seventh years. And I need you to tell us exactly what happened 3 days ago."  
"I don't entirely know. Neither does Snape, and we were the only two that were there, besides Dumbledore."  
"We'll wait for Remus and Sirius."  
Remus walked into the kitchen 10 minutes later, and gave Harry a hug. Sirius bounded out of the floo half an hour after that, and enveloped his beloved Godson in a hug, before ruffling his hair.  
"Sorry. I smelt trouble."  
"Trouble?"  
"I could smell fresh Azkaban. Lestrange Azkaban in fact. Particularly pungent, and I hadn't had a whiff of it in four years. So I followed them. They met their daughter, then apparated back to Hogwarts. Nice girl. Ravenclaw called Ella."  
"She must have been with Cho's friends. I don't know all of them."  
"So that's who you were saying goodbye too."  
"And Ginny." Sirius smiled.  
"It took you long enough to find her, don't go losing her."  
"It took Ron and Hermione even longer. And that was even more obvious."  
Remus coughed politely and mentioned something about elbows in butter dishes. Harry went red.  
"So what's going on. We need to know. Ministry Black-out."  
"Dark Mark is being seen about once a week. Snape is still going out to some gatherings. Aurors getting heavy handed. Fudge is going for a quick win. Snape is now Headmaster."  
"That greasy git?"  
"Sirius!"  
"I think he'll do well. There'll be a Sorting of the Headmaster of course." Arabella continued. "You've none of you seen one of those before.  
"What does that involve?"  
"You'll see. So what's going on?"  
Harry produced his letter from Dumbledore, and then started to relate the events of the last few days. How Voldemort had killed Dumbledore, in exchange for the traitor's life. How Pettigrew had been seen by enough people, with the Dark Lord, in order to put paid some lingering rumours.  
"Strategy - we don't know. Mostly isolated individuals that don't impact much on general wizarding life. Much as it has for the last two years."  
"The Lestranges would have killed Snape today, if it hadn't been for the fact I smelt them." Sirius was looking quite pleased with himself. "I don't know why I saved the greasy git, he's not exactly my brother, and he's certainly not my friend. Although I'd miss jousting with him at meetings."  
"Sirius. Be serious rather than dog-like for a moment. He's Headmaster. Chosen. to be sorted. He's Dumbledore's chosen. As is Harry. Some bonds run deeper than blood."  
  
  
  
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	5. Aftermath

Aftermath  


Snape woke up in the hospital wing, his head sore, and his body wracked in pain. McGonagall sat next to him, and he remembered that Poppy was on leave.  
"Now then, Severus, what happened? For all that he was Headmaster, and a Head of House, and forty years old, sometimes he felt like he was still a fourth year in transfiguration lessons, being told off for hexing Black and Potter under the desk.  
"I was levitating in the Great Hall. The Lestranges had just been seen off the premises. Then I was 'summoned'. If one does not attend, then the mark is set to inflict the cruciatus."  
"You did not simply suffer the cruciatus. Nor was it just the effects of the fall. There was another curse."  
"Numerata. My days are numbered. Cast by the Lestranges - it was one of their specialisms. I have one year. At the end of the year, either they will be dead, or I will. If they are dead, the feud will be taken up by their daughter, Ella."  
"How does it work?"  
"Numerata Anno, numerata menses, numerata dies. The years months and days of your life are numbered. It is a warning, nothing more."  
"What happens after a year, if it is unresolved?"  
"It has yet to happen, Minerva. The weak are driven mad with worry, the fool-hardy killed for their bravado."  
She looked worried for a second, then touched his hand gently. He recoiled.  
"I'm sorry, Severus." He looked at her, angry at her pity, but unable to say anything.  
"Any news?"  
"Hermione Granger has owled her friends to meet up with her in Diagon Alley."  
"Foolish girl. Is it known why?"  
"No."  
"Then I shall go, unobtrusively of course, and observe. I need to visit the apothecary. I would suggest that you send school letters out sooner rather than later. The more spread the visits of the children to Diagon Alley, the more the risk of attack is reduced. I have already confirmed his appointment to young Mr Malfoy. You will do the same for Miss Granger. Albus had hoped that the responsibility would help him to decide. He was shaken last year by the incident with one of the Hufflepuff prefects."  
"Justin Finch-Fletchley. Yes. That was very sad. It will teach him the merits of airing grievances to his father."  
"The boys parents tortured, all for the sake of some House points lost because of the idiocy of one of his acolytes."  
"Quite. What is your position now?"  
"I don't know. The ministry doesn't trust me. I have attended enough gatherings not to rouse suspicions amongst my fellow Death Eaters."  
"How?"  
"The same way that Dumbledore managed to turn up in the most unexpected places."  
"Slytherin."  
"Yes. It may not be noble, but I was able to allay enough suspicions with my knowledge of meetings. It helps that the Dark Lord seldom names all the people present at a meeting, unless they have incurred his exceptional displeasure. And that he has mentioned having spies at Hogwarts. It is assumed that I am a spy master of my Slytherins. Some know the truth."  
"I shall not ask."  
"It is just as well Minerva." With that, she left him to sleep.  
  
Harry sat in Florian's, enjoying the sunshine. Hermione had asked to meet them at ten. He watched as an owl flew in, dropping a Hogwarts letter onto his table. Appended to the usual letter, there was a hand-written note from Professor Snape, commenting acidly that if he had to disrupt others by going into Diagon Alley, then he may as well limit his visits to what was strictly necessary. He scowled, thinking that maybe Snape would like to walk down a street, and be mobbed daily by witches, attracted more for the looks and the scars, than for who Harry Potter really was. Witch Weekly was already listing him as 'Britain's most eligible bachelor, and heir to the Potter fortune' in this week's issue, which Ginny had owled to him.  
She arrived with Ron a few minutes later, and kissed him in greeting. So far he hadn't seen much of his peers this summer, spending most of it with the adult wizards, or on his own, pondering Dumbledore's letter. Sirius had promised him a long chat when he and Remus completed their current assignment, and Professor Figg was kindly letting him stay.  
  
He would be seventeen in two weeks, and legally of age then, anyway. The others already treated him as a grown-up, even if Snape didn't. Snape himself hadn't been seen much in anyone's company.  
The ministry had spent most of the last two years putting the blame for all the attacks onto Sirius, claiming that he was leading a band of rogue death-eaters, master-minding the attacks. Right up to the point that Snape had managed to get one of the Death Eaters captured, and to testify to the court under veritaserum that Pettigrew was still alive, and did indeed wear the Dark Mark. The proclamation that Sirius's punishment was commuted to twelve years in Azkaban meant that he was free to walk the streets, but that he might as well have had a target painted on his back.  
Hermione arrived a couple of minutes late. 'Muggle public transport. They're on strike. In the end I went to Cho's and got the floo.'  
'What's so urgent?' Hermione was obviously edgy.  
'It's my parents.' The group sat with bated breath, staring at Hermione.  
'Mum's pregnant.' Whatever they expected, they hadn't expected this.  
Ron made sympathetic noises, and Ginny sat quietly. Harry went deathly quiet. 'It means...'  
'Your parents were having sex? Eurgh!' Typical Ron.  
'Mum and Dad do it all the time - they're just good with the silencing charms - haven't you ever wondered what they were doing 'wrapping presents' all this time.' Ron nearly hit his little sister at this outburst. She forgot Harry's presence, and started to settle down with Hermione who was rather over-wrought. 'But - I won't be a sister - I'm old enough to be its mother.'  
'And when you've quite finished broadcasting the intimate details of someone else's marriage, Miss Granger, you'll remember, perhaps, that the world does not revolve around you.' A black cloak swept out of Fortescue's into Diagon Alley, without any clue as where he had materialised from.  
'Snape! What's HE doing here?' Harry kept quiet.  
'I dunno - but whatever that greasy git is up to, I'll bet it's no good.' Ron didn't let Snape's recent presence guard his tongue.  
'Look, don't worry, 'Mione, it won't be so bad.' Leaving Ginny Weasley and Ron to commiserate with Hermione, Harry wandered off into Diagon Alley, passing a group of his fellow sixth years at a nearby table. He wanted to think, excusing himself by saying he wanted to talk to Snape.  
  
'You might not take your security seriously, Potter, but some of us do. I would suggest that you collect your school supplies, and then return to wherever it is you're staying. No, don't turn around.' Snape was at his shoulder, and Harry had the discomfitting feeling he was being held at wand-point as they walked. He turned into the bank, and took the key from around his neck. He glanced in a window, and saw no one beside him, but he could sense the presence. 'Yes, Mr. Potter, I am invisible, and inaudible to anyone but you.'  
'So's Sirius.' Snape started in his ear. 'I can sense him.' A voice came at his other shoulder.  
'Well done Harry. How did you manage that?'  
'You borrowed Dad's invisibility cloak, and you disturbed a puddle on my left hand side. Professor Snape is on my right hand side. And only you smell of motor-bike like that.'  
'Impressive. But not so impressive that you couldn't have been killed. Like father, like son.' Sirius shifted audibly under the cloak at Snape's cold words. Snape had obviously enlarged the audibility charm.  
'So you'd lose your cover in order to start a brawl. And you'd be straight back to Azkaban. You're still on license, you know.'  
'As are you as soon as you cease to be useful. No trial.' Sirius passed Harry his own key, and a slip of parchment with an amount on.  
Harry went down to the vaults on his own, and collected two good-sized bags of Galleons from his own vault, and a bag from Sirius's. When he emerged, the voices found him and they returned toward Florian's.  
The conversation about the imminent arrival of a new Granger was not news he could celebrate. It only served to remind him that he would never be an older brother. Even if Sirius or Remus had kids, it just wouldn't be the same. Oh, he'd be part of the family. But it wouldn't be the same. Besides, he owed Sirius his life after the last stunt he'd got into, landing him up in the hospital wing for a month. Him and Snape. He still didn't know entirely what was going on, but now he was of age, he didn't want to be kept in the dark any longer.  
  
The other three had been joined by a group of prefects and seventh years. Emma Fawcett was a neighbour of the Weasley's, and she was chatting with Ginny, Carys Kitson and Terry Boot. Hannah Abbot and Susan Bones were there, and so were Alison Moon and Blaise Zabini. Cho and Cynthia Chang were talking to Hermione.  
'Quite the group photograph, aren't they?' Sirius had gone into an alley, and transformed into a dog, putting the cloak into a bag, and then handing the bag to Harry. Snape was still there, waiting until the dog came back, and there was something in his voice that didn't sound quite right.  
Carys and Terry stood to leave, and Emma joined them as they commiserated with Hermione, and then left.  
Cho mentioned something about seeing Hermione later. She smiled at Harry, and then walked away, followed by Cynthia.  
'Hermione, you might want to be more careful.'  
'What do you mean?'  
'Who you tell about the baby.'  
'They're friends, prefects, they can be trusted.' Harry felt Snape go, as Sirius appeared. 'For goodness sake Harry. You're as bad as Mad-eye Moody!'  
'He's still alive, and he's had over a hundred years in a dangerous job.'  
Hermione scowled at this, then changed tack. 'Where did you go, did you find Snape?'  
'Gringott's. I got my school letter today. I was thinking we could get our things. I don't like the idea of being in Diagon Alley more than I have to.' As if to prove his point, a young witch came over, and asked for his autograph. She was easily 7 years older than him, and Harry quickly signed a photograph from the witch weekly article for her.  
'It's OK - the Changs have said I can use their Floo in future, so I can come over to where you are.' Harry could have sworn that Sirius looked about as relieved as a dog could manage.  
'OK. We three need Quidditch stuff." He indicated the Weasleys. "If we promise not to take too long, can we all do that, and then go to all the other shops." Sirius was fixing Hermione with a glare, and growled when she started to protest.  
'Look, you can time us. I need some stuff for record-keeping. Ginny needs a new Quidditch robe, and Ron just wants to look at the Chudley Cannons stuff.' Ron grinned at this, and reached out to help Hermione up.  
'Look, I promise it'll be less than twenty minutes, love.' She blushed at the endearment, and then realised that none of them were going to let her argue. Harry looked positively cold.  
  
In Flourish and Blott's Sirius went round picking up some useful books, and putting them in Harry's basket, indicating that Harry was to pay for them from Sirius's money bag. At the Apothecary's they ran into Snape, who was completing rather a large order.  
"Of course, you'll be dealing with my assistant this year. She'll be teaching the juniors. This is the list of ingredients they'll need."  
"Certainly, sir." The girl took the long roll of parchment, and started to make notes.  
Snape turned on Hermione. "Have you quite finished blabbing your mouth off? You were lucky that you only told so few."  
"They're my friends."  
"You foolish girl. Have you any idea how much effort Professor Dumbledore and now myself have put into protecting you?" Sirius growled assent, and Hermione looked quite scared. "Your jealousy does not become you."  
He swept out, leaving the four to quickly place their orders with the minimum of words.  
Finally they finished their shopping, and Sirius took them down to the other end of Diagon Alley. He quickly transformed and rang the bell, to have it answered by a witch in her hundreds.  
'Juno McGonagall. You'd be Harry Potter. My daughter has told me a great deal about you.' He nodded, unsure what to say.  
'Madam McGonagall, may we come in?' Sirius spoke, and Juno nodded.  
'Certainly." She turned to Harry. "I believe you know my sister in law - Arabella Figg?'  
'Yes.' They walked into a hall. The door shut behind them, and Madam McGonagall started to murmur spells.  
'You are who you say you are, then. Come.' They walked upstairs to a modest flat above Diagon Alley. 'Minerva said I might expect you.'   
Sirius nodded, and they went into a comfortable sitting room. Their hostess continued. 'I assume you want to use one of the private lines.'  
'Yes - Arabella's.' Sirius turned to the others, while Juno drew two or three glyphs above the fireplace with her wand. 'Simply put some Floo powder into the fire, and step in. We can only go to one place.'   
Puzzled by this turn of events, the young wizards did as they were told. Sirius went last, talking rapidly to Madam McGonagall in an undertone.   
  
Harry made some tea, while the others sat down to wait. Sirius came through, dusted himself down, and then stood by the fireplace.  
"What the HELL do you think you're playing at?" His wrath was directed at Hermione. "I can understand you wanting to talk to your friends, but did you have to do it, in the middle of wizarding London, and broadcast the news to the whole world. Just exactly what is going on?"  
"Mum's pregnant. The baby's due this week. She didn't tell me, because she didn't want me to be worried about them, not with everything else that's happened this year. Even though Dumbledore's gone, they want me back at Hogwarts. Never mind that I could protect them. I'm old enough to carry a wand now, and I know enough warding spells.'  
'First. That is the most stupid idea I have ever heard. You may be one of the cleverest witches in your year, but you need to be kept safe. Secondly, practising magic in a Muggle area without a license is possibly the fastest way to attract attention. Thirdly, the reason the Changs moved to your area was in order to provide some protection for some of the families round there. Cho is working at the ministry of magic - transportation division, bewitching portkeys, Floo network and so on. Her parents are Aurors. I thought you had more sense than that.' Hermione looked shocked by the out-burst, and burst into tears.  
'They're telling everyone I left home. They're even going to give her my old room. They've turned it into a nursery. It feels like everyone already knows. The Changs knew before I did. Cho apologised for not telling me, you know.'  
'Hermione!' Sirius went over to the sofa, and wrapped the crying girl in a hug. 'I'm sorry I shouted. Look, I'll tell you the news. But don't ever think you don't have a home. If you don't mind sharing with three bachelors, then you're always welcome.' Harry looked up at this.  
'I'm not doing this very well, am I?' Harry and Ron shook their heads.  
'It's been a tough couple of weeks. I've been trying to track the Lestranges, with Remus. Then Snape told me about you three planning to meet up at Diagon Alley. Hermione - you're going to have to learn to Apparate. You know now you can use the Floo network from Cho's, don't you?' She nodded.  
'If you need to get anywhere fast, Juno McGonagall's is always a safe house. She'll ask no questions, save who you are. You can't get in there by Floo or Apparition, but you can get out.'  
'First of all - the Lestrange's have a daughter they call Ella. She's about your age, and she's at Hogwarts. I saw her in Diagon Alley today. It's why I reacted like that. She's only just found out who she really is.' The four looked shocked. 'I don't know what her school name is. But it's not Ella. The Map won't help you either. It can detect people who are invisible, and those in animagus form, but it will only tell you the name you know someone under at school.'  
'I don't understand.'  
'Because Polyjuice and animagus forms are temporary, the map assumes that an individual is better off knowing the real identity. However, where a person is known only by one name, where it's not their own, then the name they most commonly answer to would show on the map.'  
'So if someone changed their name at school?'  
'If a staff member married, for example, then the name would flicker and change over time. Both names would show on the map if you looked.'  
'What about multiple personality disorders?' Sirius looked at Hermione aghast, and then realised she was joking.  
'I've never found a way of putting that to the test. Remus?' He looked round for his sandy-haired friend, and realised he still wasn't back. 'He was the charms wizard, I'll ask him later. The map was his idea - hence his being first author of it. We tossed for our placings.'  
He paced the room nervously. 'Snape's as worried as I am. Minerva found him unconscious two weeks ago. We don't know where the Lestranges are. We don't know when the next attack is going to be.'  
'Sorry about that.' Ron shifted awkwardly.   
'Not your fault. The Ministry is the problem. We have no real leader - Harry, you're too young, and Snape's too vulnerable at the moment. We're acting autonomously for now, trying to follow clues.' Sirius looked up at the clock. 'Look, you'd better get back to your parents. If you want to get over here, the glyphs are quite straightforward.' He drew the three Hebrew characters, and made the other three learn it. Ron drew the security glyphs for The Burrow, which Harry copied down, and Hermione drew the ones for the Changs' private Floo. Quickly they left, though not before Sirius had organised for them to come over on Harry's birthday.  
He kissed Ginny goodbye, and waited while Ron did the same for Hermione. His godfather had gone to make himself some coffee, which Harry was grateful for. Ginny smiled, and kissed him again before she jumped into the fire-place.  
  
Sirius was grinning from ear to ear as he sat down with his god-son. "So, between saving the world, and studying, how did you manage to get together with the prettiest Weasley?"  
Harry blushed bright red. "To be honest, I'm glad for you. You need something good in your life. She's a lovely girl."  
"Thanks."  
"So tell me. You promised in that letter of yours." Harry blushed, and Sirius couldn't help thinking how much like James he was.  
"She and I became friends when Ron started dating Hermione last year. Then she got on the Quidditch team, and the three of us would train together, with Hermione using Omnioculars to help us practice, occasionally." Harry answered the unspoken question. "Chaser. Though she could play beater as well as the twins. She's just as vicious and twice as devious."  
"These are the same twins that liberated the map, and worked out how to use it?" Sirius whistled. "Sounds like you've got a handful there. If she wants you down that aisle, you haven't got a chance. Maybe I ought to get to know this girl better. Especially if we're going to wind up sharing a house."  
"Pardon?"  
"You didn't think this was a permanent arrangement, did you? Because it's about time you had a proper home. If you want it, still?"  
Harry stared, and then hugged his godfather.  
"When, Where, How?"  
"Hold on, Hold on. Wait until Remus gets here. We found the place when we were looking for the Lestranges. We'll tell you everything, promise."  
Harry was glowing. He picked up his wand suddenly, and headed outside.  
"Harry, what are you doing?"  
"Expecto Patronum." The silvery stag shot out of his wand, near solid in its intensity. It dipped its head in salute to its owner, and then walked towards Sirius, who had followed Harry. Sirius put his hands on his godson's shoulders.  
"Prongs." The stag vanished, making a strange move with its magnificent head. "He's happy. That's what he used to do when we made a new discovery, or had just spent a good night." There were tears in his eyes.   
"I wanted to store this as a really happy memory. I don't think there's going to be many this year. Not like that, I mean."  
"That's impressive, Harry, very impressive." Professor Figg was standing behind them.  
"Remus taught me in third year," he said simply. Sirius walked back into the house. Professor Figg waiting till he was inside, and the she turned to Harry.  
"I didn't just mean the patronus. I mean I've never seen Sirius lost for words like that, nor so happy. Not in a long while. Come inside. Remus is here as well.

  
---oOo---

  
On his return from Diagon Alley Snape entombed himself in his old dungeon apartment. He shrunk his few possessions into a couple of crates for the house elves to carry, and then picked up his paper-work. His will was now invalid - he would have to decide on his beneficiaries. He didn't know what family he had, and by law he was meant to make some acknowledgement of them.  
Sighing he put his rooms in order, and glanced round for the final time. Arabella Figg would be head of Slytherin. Fleur would have this apartment, Arabella would keep hers in one of the towers. He would be in the Headmaster's sweet, which was anywhere in the castle he chose to make it.  
  
He walked past the potions class-room and the door to Slytherin, and turned to a small room, hidden from the students. Sitting down at the piano, he let the music wash over him as he lifted the lid. Then he touched the keys, finding the notes came easily to his hands as he took the piano part in a Beethoven sonata for violin and piano. The violin played itself.  
"Will you be using that?"  
"For what?"  
"For your sorting of course."  
"I thought it would be kept low key."  
"There will be a sorting, Headmaster." McGonagall's voice left no choice in the matter. "It is up to you the form it will take. The sorting is unique to the wizard that orchestrates it. I have brought the memories of the previous sortings for you to look at. I am sure you will manage something unique..."  
"Professor." He turned away, and started to play Ravel's pavane.  
"You might want to use that. And your voice. You have a fine baritone, I remember. As does Sirius Black." He hit a dissonance, and stopped, speaking through gritted teeth.  
"You know what he is, don't you?"  
"Yes. An exceptionally gifted young man."   
"You know exactly what I meant." She caught his eye, and carried on as if he hadn't spoken.  
"As are you. Languages, Music, Potions. Even charms if I'm not much mistaken." She indicated the violin. Snape gave her a rare smile.  
"No. That was not my doing. It was my mother's." He started to play again, the Warsaw Concerto, this time.  
"Albus died for you. The least you can do is be who you are."  
"You think I don't know that, Minerva. That I don't have debts to pay, and promises to keep."  
"Yes."  
"You think that every day I haven't thought that this would be my last. Voldemort knows. It is only a matter of time before he gives orders to kill me. Numerata."  
"Then show who you are. And Live." Snape carried on playing, his hands finding the notes easily.  
He changed tunes again, as Minerva left the room, the passionate sound of Mozart following her, with the bewitched violin accompanying. She hummed along, and then left him, her voice echoing through the dungeons to where he played.  
"Then there will be music, and languages. And Magic." Potions was not really an option. He started to sing, this time in Hebrew, letting the words echo through the corridors, lost to all the worlds.  
  
Sirius sat down with Harry and Remus, the older pair grinning at the sixteen year old.  
"Right. You know you'll inherit Godric's Hollow of course, in two weeks time?"  
"What?"   
"Your parent's home. It was rebuilt, after the war. But it's not safe to live there yet. So we decided that we needed to get you and us a home. So we found a small place. It's up in Yorkshire, not far from Hermione's family. Far enough from the Lestranges as well. They're hiding out down in Devon, not far from one of the Malfoy castles."  
"Then how did you find this place?"  
"Because we needed to visit a couple of libraries to try and find some scrolls. The Lestranges have a long history. She's a black witch, and he's a nerosite. Immensely powerful forms of Dark magic. The libraries at Rievaulx and Rosedale have the most complete collections on the subject. So that's where we went. And we found a little cottage up for sale, on the top edge of the moors, near a place called Delves. I think you'll like it. Do you want to come and have a look at it?" Harry nodded. "Then we'll Floo up there in the morning. There's something else we need to talk about. Your inheritance."  
"It's not the first time that the entire Wizarding world knows more about me than I know about myself."  
"You stand to inherit Godric's Hollow, as well as a lot of money, Harry. And quite a lot of other things. We shall have to go into Diagon Alley on Lammas day. And then into Muggle London. You need to go to the college of arms to complete your coat of arms. And then there are other things that we need to collect."  
"This is to do with Dumbledore's letter, isn't it?"  
"No. Not all of it. These are things that come to you by right. Some things come to you by choice. You will know when you have chosen."  
"Then you have some explaining to do." Sirius nodded.  
"But not tonight."

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	6. Birthdays and Deathdays

 Birthdays and Deathdays Normal 1 80 2003-02-22T04:26:00Z 2003-02-22T05:46:00Z 1 7577 43195 359 101 50671 10.2625 Clean Clean MicrosoftInternetExplorer4 st1\:*{behavior:url(#ieooui) } /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:10.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman";} 

  
Remus came down to find Godfather and Godson asleep on the sofa. Casting a tickling charm he woke them up, and handed Harry a book. "It's the notes for the Marauder's Map. I take it Sirius explained."  
"That I inherit the combined wit and wisdom of Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs on my seventeenth birthday. Yes. He kept me up well into the long hours of the night, telling me about what you four got up to. And how Dad came by the invisibility cloak, and what you used it for. And a whole lot about my magical inheritance. And why I'm liable to end up being voted Witch Weekly's most eligible bachelor this year." Harry groaned. "Why couldn't it be you Sirius?"  
"It was, but an escaped convict isn't really that much of a catch these days. I'd tell you to enjoy it, but I don't think that's really an option. And your father's way of getting out of it isn't either."  
"What did he do?"  
"Got engaged to your mother. Not to get out of it, just an added bonus. Things were different then, though. They knew about the prophecies, and they knew that they didn't want to wait. Both of them were targets. Your mum because she was Muggle-born, your father because of who he was. The most prominent family to stand up to Voldemort was being systematically wiped out." Sirius paused, he and Remus looking very serious for a moment.  
"You got the Potter looks, the Potter wealth, and one hell of a lot of power. Plus a streak of Gryffindor that runs deep and wide. You've decided on your coat of arms?" Harry nodded. That hadn't been hard. "You don't have to keep your father's, you've earned your own, you know."  
"I'm not going to. I'm going for the Stag, the dog and wolf, under a white lily. The Gryffindor lion on one side, and a serpent on the other. Because of being a parselmouth. And because it can be shaped to look like my scar." Sirius looked surprised, but Remus and Arabella, who had just joined them, nodded.  
"You'll be going over to the Delves today? You've got the Amulets haven't you?" Dumbledore's inner circle all wore phoenix amulets, with the exception of Snape, which allowed them to communicate with one another. Harry nodded, when a noise from the fireplace alerted them to a fire-call.  
Cho's head came through the grate. "It's Hermione. Her mother's had the baby, and they're calling it Olivia. 7lbs, 2 oz. They're ecstatic."  
"Thanks Cho. Can we come over tomorrow?"  
"Sure. Cynthia's looking forward to seeing you already." A laugh was heard in the background.  
"Do you want some toast?" Cho shook her head, and disappeared. Hermione's head came through.  
"She's gorgeous. All dark hair and blue eyes. Mum and Dad are over the moon. She was born at 4 o'clock this morning - I had to stop myself coming over and waking you up."  
"We were still talking. I think we fell asleep around then though. What did you do instead - read books about baby care?" Harry laughed at his friend as she went bright red.  
"I'm staying at Ron's for a few days, while mum's in hospital. She had an emergency caesarian. Pre-eclampsia. She'll be OK, but it gave us a bit of a scare. Look, I want to get back to the hospital, so I'll talk to you later, at the party."   
"She picked a good day to be born." Harry laughed again. "See you later then?"  
Conversation finished Harry turned to the others.  
"What's the betting she's on the Hogwarts list already?" Remus and Sirius chuckled.  
"Only McGonagall knows that. Now, if you're ready, then we'll get going."  
  
The cottage itself looked small from the outside, a simple stone building, thatched with grey reeds, and sheltered from the wind by the moors behind. Surrounding it was a small orchard, with apple and pear trees. A few chickens were in the yard, and a couple of geese, and at the back was a smaller house that could be used for Remus's transformations.  
Inside it was a different matter. There were several huge rooms, and a large attic that ran the length of the house. One of them was a library, and three of them were bed-rooms. In one of them was a dog-basket, as well as a bed.  
"Remus and I will share this one. I tend to sleep as Padfoot, because it means I don't get so many bad dreams. Since Azkaban I don't like to sleep alone very much. I don't know how Remus puts up with me, sometimes."  
"Not at all my friend." Remus grinned. "At least you don't snore so loudly in human form."  
"True," Harry agreed as he dodged a hex that Sirius had sent off to his treacherous godson.   
"I've got the room next door as well, so that I can keep my things in there. And maybe I'll be OK on my own sometimes. I hope so. Yours is the room on the other side of the sitting room, by the dining room."  
Harry walked through, to find a large airy room, with a good-sized bed, and space for all his things. An owl perch was there, which made him think of Hedwig, and how she'd been captured delivering a message for him, and killed by the death-eaters.  
She would have liked it up here. He had a view towards the East, able to see both the moors and some of the valley. Some woods were down below, and then the small stream that ran off the higher peaks. And then he remembered Fawkes, wondering if he'd like it up here when he left school. Or if he'd prefer the company of Snape.  
Sighing he joined the others in the front room. Sirius looked at him, worriedly. "You like it?"  
"Sirius, it's perfect."  
"And you don't mind living with us?"  
"Sirius - I'm going to hex you if you carry on like that. Remus'll tell you I know a few good ones." They all laughed, and arm in arm the three disapparated back to Surrey.  
  
"I'll be glad to be able to do that for myself."  
"Well, you've got your test tomorrow. And then we've got appointments to keep. Don't go getting yourself splinched, please."  
"What? Like you did, you mean. It took Sirius eight attempts to get his apparition license."  
"Says he who took it four times."  
"Four times less than you. And got certified as an apparition instructor at my first attempt."  
"Well, James passed first time."  
"Only because he flirted with the examining witch, I bet - he splinched himself the first time he tried to do it solo."  
"And landed in Lily's lap when he tried to apparate downstairs. Well, his top half did. His bottom half was in the bathroom."  
"And he was so embarrassed when the accidental magic squad came round - that was around the time they introduced the rule of no naked apparition, except in an emergency."  
"That was too much information, Sirius." Sirius smirked.   
"And now we have a birthday party to attend, gentlemen. If you'd like to follow me?"  
  
Inside were most of the Weasleys. In spite of it being a Thursday, most of them had left work early, the exception being Percy. Fred and George had a box of their latest tricks, as always, and Charlie had promised a trip to a local dragon reserve. Bill had a book on curses and counter-curses, while Ron and Hermione had got him a new owl, a female barn owl that Harry decided to call Niamh.  
Ginny hung back round the edges, and somehow he knew that she wanted to give him her gift when they were on their own. They'd seen a fair bit of each other the last couple of weeks. Remus and Sirius had been coming and going, researching all sorts of things, and were seldom there more than a night or two before going off again. Mostly Ginny came round to him, as Hermione tended to be at the Burrow with Ron, working on something or other.  
Molly had baked a cake, and Arthur had charmed a CD player. Nothing from the Dursleys - it was as if he didn't exist any more. Not that they'd ever remember his birthday. Remus gave him a packet that had "the collected wisdom of Moony, Padfoot and Prongs" on the top. Inside there were stories, and discoveries that they'd made. Some of it was advice, others photos, and at the back was a book about the Marauder's Map.  
But it was Sirius's present that made him gasp. It was a signet ring, with a stag's head on it, charmed so that it could have any number of images on it, each to be keyed to a different individual. It could also be used as a portkey, which Sirius had set to Delves, and there was a small inscription in the back.  
"To my godson, with love." Harry looked up, and then hugged him. "Thanks."  
"It's a keep-safe ring. There are some fairly powerful charms on that. Bill and Remus helped me with it. And this is from your father and mother." Sirius handed him a letter, and a small box. "You might want to read it on your own." Harry nodded, and tucked it away for later.  
The party went off with a bang, the Weasley twins having brought some fireworks to use outside. They sat in Arabella's garden, enjoying the warm summer evening, and having a riotous time. Somewhere around ten most of them drifted inside, leaving Ginny, Ron, Hermione and Harry outside.  
"Happy birthday, Harry."  
"Thanks, Hermione." She and Ron were sitting on the swing, while Ginny and Harry were sat on the grass, leaning against a tree trunk.  
"Ron, shall we go and get some more punch."  
"No, I'm... OK." She'd given him rather a violent nudge.  
Ginny and Harry sat quietly together, watching the two wander inside through the trees. She gave him a small present, and watched while he unwrapped it.  
"It's a memory box. I put some of our hair, and a couple of poems in it. I thought we'd be able to add to it over time."  
"Thanks." The box was covered with small drawings - some of them symbols, including his coat of arms.  
"That's not official yet."  
"It will be tomorrow." There was a picture of them, and one of his parents. Another of all the Weasleys, Remus, Sirius, and Hogwarts itself. Hedwig was in there, as was Fawkes. It was charmed to be larger on the inside than on the outside.  
"Thank you." He kissed her, gently, then sat back, letting her rest her head on his chest.  
He got out the letter and the box.  
"Do you want me to stay?" He nodded, and started to read.  
  
_ Dear Harry,  
Happy birthday, and congratulations on becoming an adult wizard. If you're reading this, it means we can't be with you. We're giving this to Dumbledore to give to you. I hope you know him, and Sirius, and Remus and Peter. They're the best friends we could hope to have.   
I hope that now it's peace-time, that you're living somewhere safe, away from the shadows of Voldemort, surrounded by those you love. We want you to be happy, Harry, to live, to find love, just as we have, and not have to fear for your life.   
You inherit a great deal today - by now you know some of it at least. There is a prophecy concerning our family, that we were born to fight for the good. There are other things we hope you inherit though - a sense of what is right, laughter and good humour to see you on your way, a knowledge of who you are, and good friends to guide you on the paths you have to take. Strength to see you through the bad times, and a sense of responsibility to those weaker than yourself.  
But also that you know your limitations. And that you find true happiness, wherever you choose to seek it. In the box are our wedding rings. They were your grandparent's and their parents and grandparents before that. We want you to have them, if we don't survive.  
Love  
Mum and Dad.  
_   
In the box were two rings, of red and yellow gold. On each were inscriptions, in ancient runes, that Harry would have to ask Hermione to translate. And scrolled up inside was a piece of Parchment, a notice from the Daily Prophet, announcing the engagement of Lily Evans to James Potter, Former Head Boy and Present Head Girl of Hogwarts.  
  
He sat with Ginny for hours, neither wanting to speak. He put the rings and the letter into the memory box, and they sat together, enjoying the moonlight. The sounds inside the house died down, as lights upstairs turned on and off, and people went to bed. Eventually Sirius came out to see they were OK, and left before they noticed him. Going inside he headed back upstairs.  
"It's frightening, Moony. It could be Lily and James all over again. Apart from him having green eyes that is."  
"I hope they're as happy together as those two were. And that they have long and happy lives."  
"I intend to make sure of it."  
  
On a cold dark moor Snape listened at the edge of a group of Death Eaters. He was wearing his mask and cloak, even though he was invisible. The Dark Mark automatically stopped hurting as soon as he apparated, assuming as it did that no one would be fool enough to come to a meeting if they thought they would get themselves killed. Although Voldemort could get some information from the marks, it was limited.  
He was wearing Slytherin's boots, a privilege similar to that of the Gryffindor sword - one that could be wielded by showing the traits of one's house. As Headmaster he could use all four gifts - the sword, the quill that leant a near omniscient wisdom to its bearer, boots that made one invisible, and a cloak that attracted loyal friends to its wearer, if that wearer was worthy.  
The gifts relied on the character of the individual to augment whatever traits he or she had. So the sword lent valour to the heart of one with some bravery, and the boots stealth to one already possessed of cunning.  
  
The Death Eaters made their grovelling obeisance, and stood back in the circle. The first words surprised him.  
"What of the traitor? Will you step forward, or will you be damned by your cowardice." None moved. Wormtail walked forward, and pulled one of the death-eaters to him.  
One of his spies was pulled forward from the space immediately to Snape's right, and executed, the privilege going to the Lestranges. An odd couple, a few years older than Severus, rendered thin by Azkaban. Brutus, tall with a roman nose, short, dark brown hair, and a strange light in his eyes. His wife, Cleo was a Nordic beauty, as soulful as an iceberg. Or in fact any inanimate object. In short a psychopath. How their daughter could be so pleasant and clever he was unsure.   
They were calm, discussing Rook as if he were no more than a butterfly. They flicked different hexes - furnunculus and Jelly-legs - a combination that had been much studied since the events on the Hogwarts express three years ago. It had some interesting side-effects when added to Cruciatus, mostly to do with the way skin colour changed according to the intensity of the pain.  
  
Snape watched as Wormtail stood three feet away from him, staring straight through the space he was occupying. Until the circle was dismissed he would be unable to apparate away, and his Portkey would be too risky.   
"Malfoy. You have been seen consorting with someone you know to have provoked your master's displeasure."  
"I did not know, my Lord. I assumed he was in favour, my lord." Lucius Malfoy was prostrated before Voldemort, his voice at its most ingratiating.  
"I tell you all now. The Headmaster of Hogwarts is a traitor." Brutus Lestrange spoke up. "We were sent to Hell by information only he had. He is Numerata." The last word was spoken in italics, and the group gathered there nodded. Voldemort spoke.  
"He is not to be killed. His fate is in the hands of my most loyal servants, and they shall decide it. Lucius, my slippery friend. What say you?"  
"I have in mind a means to deliver to you the Headmaster, Fudge, and Harry Potter. But it is in the planning that the time will be taken, not the execution."  
"Pray continue. I may not punish you for your disloyalty."  
"Master. It will rely on my son."  
"The same son that has been bested by a mud-blood these last six years. And you expect me to rely on him. I would have thought you would know better by now."  
Idly flicking his wand Voldemort inflicted the cruciatus on Malfoy.  
"What sport is there planned this evening?"  
"A Muggle by the name of Thomas. His son knows my son. I have the address. And a list of the protective wards."  
Snape was torn. He needed to know the plan, but he also needed to protect his students. The Apparition barrier would be lifted shortly, and there was no means at his disposal that would take him into Malfoy manner undetected.  And he would be unable to leave.  
"You have been useful this evening, Malfoy. Shall we be making the acquaintance of your son this evening? That will be all, gentlemen."  
Snape apparated away second, ensuring that the barrier had gone entirely. He didn't hear the final words.  
"He was here this evening. If the attack were to be discovered, then he would be blamed."  
"Then I shall call them back." Voldemort indicated to the black figures who were waiting for instructions. Macnair had left first to return to the ministry where he was on duty that evening. Nott had followed, returning to the Department of Magical Transportation where he was part of the Apparition monitoring unit, to disable the monitoring.  
  
Sirius sat at Harry's bedside, Fawkes on his perch beside the boy's head. The scar was red, though whether from being clutched by fingers, or more malevolent intervention it was as yet unclear. The only things Sirius could make out were 'Snape' 'Thomas' and 'Lestrange'.   
He refused to let his godfather touch him. So the Godfather turned into the Dogfather, nuzzling Harry, and lying on the bed next to him, hoping the dream would stop. Echoes of Azkaban - the new arrivals. How they all screamed in the end. Except for the Lestranges.   
Harry awoke briefly, then lay quietly again, his arms round Padfoot's neck. Comforted by the phoenix and the warmth he fell asleep again.  
In the morning they lay awake, Sirius uncertain whether he could give more comfort as a dog, or as a man. Remus solved the problem by coming in with breakfast.  
'I noticed the dog-basket was empty,' he said mildly, 'and I thought I might find you in here. Bad dreams?'  
'Both of us.' Sirius transformed, and sat on the bed, giving Harry a glass of water.  
'Thanks. It's weird. Being able to tell someone immediately. Having someone around I mean.' Sirius glanced up at Remus. 'I never had anyone. Not like that.'  
''S'OK.' But it wasn't OK. No one to comfort a child's nightmares. 'What happened?'  
'Voldemort named Snape, and tortured Malfoy, and killed Rook. Or rather the Lestranges killed Rook. And enjoyed it. And then they went to Dean's house, but it was a trap. They were going to get Snape caught by the Ministry. And then Voldemort talked to the Lestranges. The circle was different. The Lestranges were opposite Voldemort.'  
Sirius nodded. Lupin looked at him: 'what can you tell us?'  
'They're psychopaths. They met at school. Cleo was four years older, Brutus was a year older than her. A meeting of minds, because it couldn't be called a joining of souls. They have a daughter apparently - she seems nice enough, though I don't know how a child of those parents could be deemed 'nice'. But she is. A Ravenclaw.'  
'What were they like in Azkaban?'  
'The kind to kick a dog.' Sirius slid off the duvet onto the floor. He picked up the bacon and toast, and ripped it to shreds with his teeth.  
'No dogs at table, Sirius. I really don't want to be fishing hair out of my coffee again.' Harry laughed at Lupin. 'Shall we get ready to go to London then?'  
Harry slipped on his ring, and felt the magic ripple over him. He looked at the ring, and saw that it was fixed on the stag. 'There's a parchment about it. Each animal is a different 'mode' so you can set it to different portkeys, or charms, or whatever else you might want.  
  
The day went well. The three men apparated back individually, laughing and joking, and jostled back to the small house that belonged to Arabella. Their amulets went off at the same time, and as one they ran in through the door, to find staring from the fireplace the body of Juno McGonagall.  
Snape was there as well, shaking. Black bounded up to him.  
'What's going on?'  
'I was hoping your doggie nose might have sniffed out what was going on. After all, you're the one that dragged our three musketeers-' he couldn't have sneered harder had he tried '- through Juno's.'  
'You were the one at the Meeting.'  
'I was the one changing the wards on the Thomas's house.'  
'How's Minerva?'  
'For God's sake, Black. She doesn't even know. Didn't your amulet tell you anything -' Arabella's face stopped him short. Her words made him catch his breath.  
'We can't all be as cool and collected as you, Snape. For Crying out loud, we're down on our best contact, if you have to be so unemotional, and if you actually have some feelings in that body of yours, then we've lost a friend, someone who actually cared about you, me, and every-bloody-one of us in this room. It was a warning. No one is safe.' She cast Mobilicorpus, and moved the body to the table which Remus had cleared. Harry was shaking violently. Sirius steered him to the bathroom, and let him throw up, before clearing him up.  
'First, we're going to Delves. No, don't protest. They know you're here - that's why Juno was sent here. Then I'm finding Ron and Ginny - there's no better chaperone than an older brother, trust me, and you need company. Hermione's best where she is. You've got plenty to keep you occupied - you and Ron need to sit down and work on strategy - Hermione can visit, but it's not a good idea for her to stay. She needs to sort out what's going on with her family.'  
'Sirius - I'm not a kid any more.'  
'Harry - don't try to be a 'man' until you have to be. I'll be back this evening - there are things you need to look over, and decisions that have to be taken by you. You'll be able to go to the library at Rievaulx, and at Rosedae. Please - trust me. Look, on the first day of term, once the festivities are over, all of us are going to sit down and talk. I need you to do one heck of a lot of work - your schoolwork's done, but I need you, Ron and Ginny to practice duelling, fighting three ways, that sort of thing. You have to be quicker on your wand-work. And you have to master some of that wandless stuff by then as well. I don't mean you should be able to cast any spell, but being able to use it to shave, or some other simple spell would be useful." Harry winced - shaving was hardly simple in his book. Sirius wasn't taking any arguments, especially given the mood Snape was in.  
  
Sirius, Harry, and Remus stood by as Snape lifted her body manually onto a tray.  
'No magic. We need to get a trace on the spells used,' he explained to the others, distracted, and disturbed. Harry followed him, remembering what he'd been like earlier in the summer - there was that same air about him. Sirius could have said anything, and there would have been no emotion in Snape's reply. The newcomers stood back, letting Snape get her into position. Harry stepped forward, and lifted Juno onto the table, away from the eyes of anyone that might chance into the room before being told.  
Snape leant heavily against the wall, his eyes waxed over, not glinting in spite of the summer sunshine. Remus moved forward, his wolfish scents picking up the trail. Padfoot did the same. Before either could speak, though, Snape broke out of his reverie.  
"Lestrange."  
"Yes." Both spoke at once, quietly and quickly.  
"Me, then." Sirius looked up at Snape's words.  
"Not everything's about you. It's all of us." No heat in the words, even a little comfort.  
"If it's the Lestranges, then it's about me." Turning on his heels, he walked out of the room, into the garden. Remus stopped Sirius.  
"He'll want to tell Minerva himself. What we have to do here, is make sure we have enough to convict them."  
"It's Nerosite magic. They don't care about leaving traces. The ministry won't catch them, and even if they did, there's no way to contain them."  
"So it wasn't just the killing curse?" Harry spoke for the first time, uncertainly.  
"No. Juno was -" Remus sighed "a very powerful witch. They've drained her - of blood, and of magic."  
"She was one of the most powerful witches of her generation. In many ways as powerful as Albus, some say. Not of the same cloth - a guide, not a warrior."  
"Severus?" Arabella touched his shoulder lightly as she stopped at his side. She'd come from the kitchen when Juno had arrived, and had stood there, unseen for quite some time. His next words were soft.  
"If Albus was my guardian, then she was my guide. I need to tell Minerva - if you'll excuse me." He disapparated from outside.  
Harry looked at the others. Sirius answered the unspoken question "No - I don't know what he meant. We're going to Delves, now. If Fawkes is there...' On cue the phoenix flew through the window.  
"We'd better be going. Harry, Sirius, none of us want to intrude here." The three men hugged Arabella, and Remus crossed himself as he knelt by Juno.  
"Peace eternal, grant unto her, Lord  
And may she ever dwell in the Halls of the Shining of the Light."  
  
At Delves, Sirius spoke to Harry again.  
"It's safest for you here. You can get to Rosedale and Rievaulx easy enough if you want. Ginny and Ron can come here any time, Hermione, only when one of us is around."  
"How do you know I'm safe?"  
"It used to be a safe-house. Not in the last war, but in the times of the great persecutions. The spells are old, and strong." The quiet authority in Remus's voice meant it filled the room. "I may not be a potions master, but I pride myself on a good chamomile tea." He handed them each a mug. "While you were occupied in London, I visited an old acquaintance. The way we found this place for sale like that struck me as a little odd, so I decided to investigate. This place has a great deal of History, and some very strong Magic holding it together."  
"How strong?" Harry looked up as he spoke, eyes lit up.  
"This is what I'm hoping you'll help us find out. For your NEWTs you need to do coursework. I was thinking this house might be a practical focus for your time." Remus grinned at Sirius as Harry thought.  
"I don't get much choice."  
"No."  
"It'll help us, and you..."  
"...can keep trouble from finding you." Sirius smiled as he repeated Harry's mantra, not unkindly.  
"OK. Can I fly in the orchard now?" Sirius nodded, and Harry grabbed his broom. The two men followed him, conversing quietly. Harry sped around the trees, picking the ripe fruit from the tops, and putting it into old Quidditch baskets.  
Eventually he brought three loads of fruit down, which Remus lifted easily, and took away to the store-room.  
"Harry. What did you take from the vaults?"  
"It was something Dumbledore wrote in that letter. That when I'd decided, I'd know, because the box would find me, Sirius."  
"And it has done." Godfather wrapped his arm around his godson's shoulders, and they walked inside together.  
  
Severus walked to the castle, instead of taking the Floo from the three broomsticks.  
No one saw him arrive, walking through and touching nothing. From his apartment he tried to find Minerva. Eventually she responded from one of the store-cupboards - she wanted to be sure that she had enough tea-pots and matches and button-holes and water goblets and...  
"Minerva" She stopped, meeting his eyes.  
"I know."  
"Shall I escort you?"  
"No. I want to say goodbye alone. Can you finish this?" She indicated her list. "Besides, one of us needs to be here."  
"Is there anything more?"  
"Just this."  
"What are you going to do?"  
"Her funeral was planned. Her will is... was with Albus to execute. I'm just going to say goodbye."  
"As himself?"  
"As Headmaster."  
"Then would you let me?"  
"Of course, Severus, thank you."  
"Not at all Minerva. It is a great loss."  
"You meant a lot to her."  
"And she to me." He spoke quietly, though there was no one else to hear. "She thought the world of you. We often spoke of you, and Hogwarts when..." Severus paused to rest a hand on her shoulder.  
"Thank you. I'll be going."  
"I'll tell Arabella." Minerva McGonagall left the cupboard, and Severus listened as the taps faded into the distance. He reached for an amulet that he'd borrowed, and tapped it with his wand, alerting Arabella.  
Nobody was looking so nobody saw as the Headmaster of Hogwarts wept.  
  
At Delves Harry sat down on the sofa, and held his amulet between his fingers. Magic flickered as it interacted with his ring. His coat of arms had been hidden in a portrait, and the collective wisdom of the marauders was on the sofa beside him. Sirius and Remus were talking in the library. For all that Harry was active in the 'Old Crowd' he wasn't privy to all that went on.  
He sprawled out on the sofa, watched by Niamh on her perch, still playing with the amulet. The phoenix on it was for himself and for Riddle, to remind them what they were fighting about. "The Order of the Phoenix" - the three most powerful wizards of the age, united around a common symbol. Dumbledore - old, the warrior. Riddle - at the height of his strength. And a young boy named Harry Potter.  
His wands were beside him - the phoenix core that marked him as companion to the others, and another phoenix wand, this time mahogany, that had belonged to his father. It wasn't as easy to use as his usual one, but it gave him more options. His mother's, willow and unicorn hair, was in a box upstairs.  
From under the couch he picked up Ginny's memory box. Remus had promised to charm it with his mother's voice - there were some letters from Lily to James that were among James' things - similar to a Howler, but that could be heard over and over. Sirius had known where to find them, and got them for him.  
He debated about Floo-ing the burrow - the other Gryffindors did it all the time. He'd never really used the phone much either. Ginny now had an extension to her room - if anyone put powder on the main fire they could listen in, but it was better than nothing. He remembered what Sirius had said, and grabbed parchment and quill.  
  
_ 'Mr.Harry Potter requests the pleasure of the company of miss Ginny Weasley, and is prepared to suffer that of Mr. Ronald Weasley for that privilege.'_  
  
It didn't really seem right to say something like that, so he crossed it out.   
  
_ Dear Ron and Ginny,  
Do you want to come and stay at Delves for the rest of the holidays? It feels funny, writing that to you, when I've stayed with you every holiday so far. If you can come, no need to owl, just floo over. You know the glyphs.  
Harry_  
  
He gave it to Niamh, and lay back, waiting for the fire to glow.  
  
Severus picked up his things and returned to his offices. Albus' list was now three scrolls long - a device that automatically added the day's duties to it. Mostly it was about replying to correspondence, and completing wards, but some of it was more personal.  
'Lucius. You wished to speak with me?' The blond man was waiting in the study, attended to by three House Elves, and sitting in the Headmaster's chair. He did not rise, simply curling his lip. 'I believe that is my chair.'  
'Dear me, Snape, you are rather presumptuous today. You're not Headmaster yet.' Lucius Malfoy stretched out, his snake-head cane resting across his lap. Snape stood by the window, his face in shadow.  
'I have duties to attend to.' There's nothing quite like the presence of a Death Eater to focus one's attentions. He tapped the amulet in his pocket with his wand, three times.  
'And had I known what I know now, you would not ever be Headmaster. You may still not be.'  
'Might I remind you, Mr. Malfoy, that we all in this room are mortal. No one knows when our days will be ended.'  
'For some those days are numbered.'  
'I wasn't aware that the Malfoy family was now immortal.'  
'You know what I mean Snape.'  
'I know that you are a wizard, and I am a wizard. And that each of us has only a limited number of days. There are means of prolonging life - ways in which I am an expert, which you are of course aware.'   
'And there are ways of ending it, of which you are the undisputed master of your craft.'  
'You flatter me, Lucius. Was there some purpose to your visit?'  
'I came to inform you that I am, ex officio, now a governor.' Lucius stood as he spoke, and walked towards Severus.  
'You are deputy minister for magic then. My congratulations.' Severus refused to move, and Lucius stood beside him.  
'With special responsibility for... education.' For all their equality in height, Lucius still seemed to dominate. With his cane, he reached across, and pushed Snape's hair away from his face and neck, exposing the scars there. Snape didn't move at first, then walked across to the desk, and sat in the Headmaster's chair.  
'Then you will know that I am solely responsible for the governance of this school. It is not, however, my decision whom we educate, as that is written down in the magic that binds this school.'  
'But you are responsible for writing and sending the letters. I thought we might come to some arrangement.'  
'What would that be?' Snape's voice was soft, his eyes dangerously lit up.  
'Your, co-operation shall we say, in exchange for your guaranteed safety. It can be arranged.'  
'With Voldemort, there are no guarantees. I do not make pacts which I am unable to fulfil.'  
'But I believe this has not always been so.' Malfoy's eyes drifted to the Dark Mark.  
'I fulfilled my part of the bargain. When a magical contract is breached, then it becomes void. It was not however breached by myself. If all you have come here to do is make idle threats, and offer empty promises, then I suggest that you leave. Dobby.' The little elf came forward at Snape's command, and snapped his fingers. Malfoy found he was being propelled away from the office.  
'Our master shall hear of this.'  
'Your master. He is not mine. Once again, I congratulate you Lucius. Now I must return to running my own affairs, please forgive me.' And with that, Severus Snape closed the study door, and turned himself to address the face in the fire.  
'Black.'  
'You recorded the conversation?'  
'Of course I did, Black. What do you take me for, an imbecile like yourself?"'  
'No - just a human being. I was mistaken.'  
'No thanks to you that I am one.'  
'No, it's thanks to James that you aren't.' Snape looked near murderous at Black, who had walked into his office when given the all clear by Dobby.  
'Why did it have to be you?'  
'Because Remus won the toss. Speaking of tossers - Malfoy.'  
'Yes.' A twitch of a smile made a guest appearance on Snape's face. The normal cast of expressions returned rapidly. 'For once I agree with your assessment.'  
'For someone with a wife that beautiful he must be doing something wrong, only having one son.'  
'Some of us don't share your animalistic interests in other people's lives.'  
'Some of us want to get back to our families.' Sirius wished he could take that back as soon as he'd said it. Snape's look of intense hatred was back. He quickly amended it. 'Ron and Ginny are coming this evening. I promised I'd be there. What are you going to do? Tell the ministry?'  
'And have them arrest me?'  
'So you'd be accused of being a Death Eater? By the biggest of them all?'  
'Malfoy is no longer the highest in Voldemort's favour. That is the Lestranges. They had to wait two years to leave Azkaban. Now they are being rewarded.'  
'So he's going round threatening school teachers and house elves?'  
'I am hardly a mere school teacher.'  
'But you aren't Headmaster of Hogwarts yet, as he pointed out.'  
'I know that, Black. I can hardly bring forward the Sorting. You will be there of course.'  
'Remus and I will, yes. In House Robes. You've decided?'  
'Yes. I don't know where I found the time for such frivolity. If it wasn't impressed on me by, by Minerva and Juno, that this was necessary then...'  
Sirius looked properly at Snape. His hair had fallen away from his face, the pale lines that marked his face suddenly visible again.  
'Yes, Black. Something you find interesting in my appearance? Maybe I should join your godson in handing out signed photographs.' It took all of Sirius's, admittedly limited, self-control not to respond in kind.  
'No. I was thinking that we all bear our scars.'  
'Thank you for your insight, Black. How very original and perceptive of you.'  
'Shall we continue this in the Great Hall? Or perhaps the little Hall? Whichever you prefer.' Snape looked up at him. 'I thought you might like the opportunity to hex me into oblivion. I am supposed to be teaching duelling, after all.' He walked to the top of the moving staircase that led to the Hall.  
'Willingly.  You wouldn't want to be shown up in front of the whole school?'  
'Like Lockhart? You're far vainer than that if you think you'll best me.'  
'We'll see, Black. You'll be eating your words. I see how quick you are to spend time here rather than with your precious godson when it comes to indulging your childish whims.'  
'That was beneath even your poor wits, Snape.'  
'Think yourself my superior, Black?'  
'We'll see soon enough.' And with that, they began to Duel.

By the time Sirius came home, Ron, Ginny and Harry were sitting in front of the fireplace, talking quietly. Remus was watching them from the library, taking in the appearance of the new arrival. His clothing looked little better than when he'd been in Azkaban. His nose and hair had been re-arranged.  
"I hope the other guy looks worse." In answer to Remus, the fire glowed again, and an immaculate Snape walked out. Sirius snapped at him, and stomped to his own room.  
"Good evening gentlemen, Miss Weasley." One couldn't help but think the politeness was merely to aid further the discomfiture of Sirius, and not out of any observance of polite society.  
Remus stood and followed Sirius into their rooms and could be heard hissing at one another. Snape walked into the kitchen to pour himself a drink.  
"You duelled with Snape?"  
"He didn't look nearly so good twenty minutes ago."  
"What were you thinking of?"  
"He needed to let up. He's dangerous when his emotions aren't under control. And he wasn't entirely..." He paused and could be heard stepping into the shower.  
  
Snape remained standing with his drink, his face impassive. He took in his students. Miss Weasley and Mr. Potter were taking Modern Magic this year, in addition to Potions. Mr. Weasley would merely be inflicting his presence in Potions. None of them moved, not precisely fearful, but somewhat discomfited . They waiting until Remus and Sirius re-entered, Sirius something close to jaunty in his plain green robes, Remus in customary grey ones.  
Wordlessly Sirius returned Snape's wand to its owner, leaving the others in no doubt as to who had won.  
Surprisingly, it was Ron who spoke first to enquire what was going on.  
"We duelled The only reason he looked better was because I felt obliged to patch him up." Snape nodded, but none of the adults smiled as Harry spoke.  
"Why?"  
"Since when have they needed an excuse to fight?" Sirius and Remus smiled at Ron's perspicacity.  
"It's called practice, Potter. If I am to employ this mongrel to teach dueling , I ought at least to get some use out of him. And before we go further, we need to discuss this." He produced an amulet, and proceeded to replay the conversation with Malfoy.  
Harry stood up, and walked to the fireplace. He tapped his wand on the amulet round his neck and said 'Hermione.' It glowed, and within seconds her head was in the grate.  
"You're lucky. I was at the Chang's - Emma Fawcett's here, and so's Evangeline Lovegood."  
"Can you come over?"  
"Sure." She ducked her head out and the connection went dead. The protocol was to come through on a different Floo, where possible.  
Snape sneered, his hands gripping his wand tightly. "Can't function without your brains, Potter."  
"Yes, but why should we have to do without the brightest witch in Hogwarts if we don't need to." Sirius grinned as he spoke.   
"We work well together." Harry followed up his Godfather.  
"You mean she does your work for you."  
Ron was sitting with parchment and quill, ignoring the three-way exchange. A complicated network was forming. With a flick of his wand, Remus animated it into three dimensions, much to the interest of the others. The two at the table ignored the others as Hermione walked in, greeted by Snape, and merely acknowledged by the others. Ron and Remus didn't seem to be stopping any time soon, and they quickly filled in Hermione.  
Eventually they stopped, and the model was floated to the middle of the room. Pushing back the furniture to clear a space, they sat on the floor, all except Snape, who stood over them, ominously. Ron began nervously. For all that he'd come to see Snape in a different light, he didn't like him.  
"It's a network. It shows the known players in this 'game' of ours.'  
"Weasley, it is not a chess altercation, it is a war as well you know. It costs lives."  
Ron paled. "I say players, because we don't know who really is the enemy. This shows the connections between us all, and the positions of individuals, known allegiances and different factors."  
Hermione walked round it, fascinated. "What are you trying to do?"  
"Work out the implications of losing Dumbledore and Madam McGonagall..."  
"As if you can do that with a simple model. A man and a woman dead, at its simplest. You need no model to tell you that. At its most complex, all the things of computations of relationships, a map beyond any model."  
"Snape. They're teenagers."  
"If that's how you see them, then they shouldn't be here. They're all of age, except Miss Weasley. It's a war. They can each die as easily as anyone."  
Ron looked at Snape and Sirius for a minute or two, and then tapped the model.  
Harry spoke first. "It could also show us the times in which our friend becomes our enemy - that's what you meant by us being 'players' isn't it." Snape's face betrayed little of the surprise he felt. Ron merely nodded, and watched as the network changed, two points burning brighter than any others, a third a black hole, attracting in those nearest to it. Three names: Tom Marvolo Riddle, Harry James Potter, Severus Snape.  
The model had re-shaped itself, from something formless to something more closely resembling a phoenix. Harry looked at Snape, neither willing to let the other's gaze drop. Hermione spoke in her best 'know-it-all' voice.  
"So, Harry and Professor Snape are taking on the leadership of the group. Taking Dumbledore's place." Snape snorted, Remus responded.  
"It would appear so, Miss Granger."  
"Two of you to take the place of one."  
"Any more devastating insights, Miss Granger?" Snape broke his gaze to Harry to fix on Hermione.  
"Two of us to hold ourselves in counter-balance." As quickly as he'd looked at Hermione, Snape fixed on Harry. Harry spoke softly, heard only by Snape.  
"Each without the other will fall to darkness." Snape nodded, and listened to Hermione who was talking now.  
"Some peoples' roles have shifted. Ginny is beside Harry, with Ron, Moony, and Padfoot backing up Professor Snape and Harry. I'm between Harry and Professor Snape, with connections to both."  
"A buffer?" Ron smiled, Snape did not.  
"Whose idiotic idea was this? This thing? That you're doing?"  
"Professor Dumbledore's, Sir."  
"Who said all his ideas were good ones? If you have nothing better to do, I certainly do. Good evening, gentlemen, Miss Granger, Miss Weasley." Hermione didn't acknowledge him, already walking towards the library, quill in one hand, parchment in the other, closely followed by Remus. Ron followed them.  
Harry stood and sat by Ginny, who was leaning against the sofa. Sirius sprawled out in front of the fire, burning merrily in the cool summer's evening.  
Ginny nestled beside him, whispering in parseltongue, a vestige of Voldemort's possession of her in first year. Harry laughed, while Ron and Hermione looked at the younger couple benevolently.  
Remus was still sitting at the table, making lesson plans for Modern Magic and his work with Sirius. Occasionally he asked the others about duelling hexes - Harry was as proficient as any. Ron and Hermione were discussing the model, Hermione giving pieces of information, and Ron trying to arrange them in a semblance of order.  
Eventually Sirius stood up. 'I don't know about you, but I fancy a run on the moors. Anyone coming?' Harry looked at Ginny, and they shook their heads. Hermione and Ron did likewise.  
"I think I'm staying to chaperone." Remus grinned at Sirius, who was aware that it wasn't long until the full moon, and handed over the wolfsbane potion.  
Sirius changed, and bounded out of the door.  
Harry sat back, but Ginny was upright now. "When's Sirius' birthday?" Harry looked blank.  
"You can be so selfish, you know. He went to all that trouble for your birthday, and you don't find out when his is." Harry backed away from Ginny, who was hissing at him in parseltongue, and hung his head.  
"It's August 10th." Remus' voice carried calmly across the room, a little amusement on his face.  
"Great. Can we organise a party?" Harry looked up, then registered the look on Remus' face. Sensing 'PMT' as Sirius referred to it, he backed down. "How about after the moon - the 12th. Then we can..." He landed on his side, laughing hard.  
"What?" He had the attention of all the others.  
"Oh, you know what they -" he wafted towards Remus "got up to at school. I was thinking we could get him back. You reckon the twins would be in on it?" Remus' eyes were dancing already, like nothing he'd ever shown before. His face was wistful and as he spoke there was real energy in his voice.  
"Those two. I remember my first lesson with them - they'll have to be better than that if they're planning on besting the legendary Sirius Black."  
"They'll be up for the challenge - ever since they found out who he was, they have been desperate to do something worthy of his legacy." Ginny grinned mischievously as she spoke, and Ron caught her eye.  
"Be afraid. Be very, very afraid." He glanced at his sister, and they laughed.  
Remus was lost in his thoughts for a few minutes.  
"It reminds me of the time that they pulled a prank on me. You know my birthday's at the end of June - the moonchild. It was Peter and Sirius who pulled it off. No thanks to James, really. In fact, he nearly ruined it."  
A shadow crossed Harry's face at the mention of Pettigrew, but he let Remus continue in his deceptively mild tone.  
"You know, Pettigrew wasn't entirely a bad man. Just as your father, Sirius and I aren't entirely good men. It would be good for you to know about the time your father royally screwed up, and it was Peter who saved the day. It was my birthday, June 30th, and a New Moon for once. I'd planned to celebrate in fine style - it was my eighteenth, we'd finished our NEWTs, and we needed to do something, because the shadows were lengthening. Already our classmates were falling to the Dark - either serving them, or being killed, or going into hiding. We all knew James and Lily were engaged, and that James and Sirius had the best NEWTs in the year. James thought it would be a good idea to kidnap me, and then hold me 'hostage' at a party at an undisclosed location. The party itself was a great success, and we stayed up till all hours, with visits from various individuals. It was about 4 a.m. before we started to get ready to go home. Lily was commenting how beautiful the evening stars were, and we started to laugh and joke. James was saying how it was easy to tussle with a werewolf. He transformed, and lifted me on his antlers, and none too gracefully threw me into the woods. I landed in a patch of wolfsbane and silver birch. The combination was nearly fatal to me. It was Peter who used his animagus form to go and find the coltsfoot and other herbs nearby that would save me. Sirius dragged me out. James was laughing, until he realised what he'd done. Lily charmed his mouth shut, and then levitated him over the giant squid, dropping him right on its head. I was in a coma for three days, and missed the Hogwarts Express." Harry was very quiet.  
"Your father was no saint, Harry. Neither was your mother. Neither was Peter wholly bad. He wasn't a dunce - he knew which herbs would save my life. In their way though, they were all good people."  
"So, Dumbledore died just before birthday?" Harry was quiet. Even his birthdays hadn't been that bad. To lose the man that trusted you so much as to give you a job in dangerous times. Ginny stood up, and called Niamh. Picking up a parchment, she scribbled a note to her twin brothers, and tied it securely. "They'll be in."  
"I didn't mean it to be so sombre. That night was one of the best ever. The kidnapping worked - I thought they'd forgotten my birthday entirely, and when I got to the room they'd hired, it was booby-trapped everywhere." Ron looked up at this point.  
"Do canary creams work on you, Professor?"  
"Not that I know of, Ron." Remus' eyes were dancing again, his mop of light brown hair refused to stay in place.  
"So were we to get some of the twins party pieces, we could give them to you, and you'd feel fewer effects, and Sirius would get the full dose?"  
"You do realise that Sirius knows I'm immune to certain things. He'd make one of you try." Remus was already half way across the room, to where Ron was sitting, serious mischief in his eyes. All Harry heard was snippets from Ron and Ginny, who'd joined in the plotting.  
"Well, I think that's plain mean. And shouldn't we be doing something with this model?" Hermione left the group and went back to the parchments. Ron was shaking his head. "That's just brilliant, Remus. Ginny, you know the twins stock better than I do. Do you reckon they'll be able to help?" She nodded.  
"Harry, you'll have to pretend you forgot. And you know nothing about this. You can do that?" Harry nodded, and then walked over to Hermione.  
"You OK?"  
"I just - don't think it's fair. Making him think you've forgotten, then surprising him two days later."  
"Look, he'll love it. He loves pranks. You've heard him." Hermione was unconvinced.  
"That was twenty years ago, Harry."  
"Hermione, trust us. We need a good laugh more than ever. Remus can help us with the guest list. It'll be good. I promise. Nothing cruel." He hugged her awkwardly. "What's really the matter?" She looked down at her watch, and started.  
"Look, I've got to go. I said I'd be home by eleven." She picked up her things, and kissed Ron. "I'll use the library Floo."  
"'Bye, Hermione. See you on the twelfth." Ginny hugged her friend good-bye, and Ron shook her hand, before the remaining four gathered over the parchment with their ideas sitting snugly on it.

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	7. Sirius

For the family at Delves, the next couple of weeks passed off peacefully and easily enough. Though the model had clearly put Harry and Snape in charge of their own destiny, nothing further had been done. Sirius and Remus continued their work: Remus was researching the powers the Lestranges had and preparing lesson plans for the following term, including pinning Sirius down for some details for their joint classes. Snape had issued an edict that he wanted all plans submitted a week before term began, knowing full well that Sirius would want to leave it to the last minute.  
For Sirius most of the work was development - mostly with Fletcher, as the ministry couldn't be trusted at the moment. Fudge was running a lame duck administration that was rotten to the core. Lucius Malfoy as deputy minister for magic wasn't the only interesting appointment that he'd made. All of them were 'innocent' in the eyes of the courts, unlike Sirius himself. He was also acting as official adviser to the twins, following the events of his birthday party.  
As Harry had planned, they had innocently forgotten Sirius' birthday. All except for Severus, who had seen fit to turn up and demand lesson plans from the two teachers. A gleam in his eye, Lupin had exchanged potion for plans without complaint, and then seen fit to invite Severus to stay for coffee. Sirius had gone into the orchard and borrowed the Firebolt, and picked the plums and gooseberries, while Remus and Severus discussed the latest news, in all too formal tones. Juno McGonagall's funeral had occurred the previous day, and Severus had been asked to speak. His icy turns repelled the natural warmth in Remus' voice. Harry sat in the library with Fawkes on his lap, writing steadily, listening to the conversation. Fawkes sang quietly, his notes melding with the music of the moors that floated through the open window. Severus could never accurately be described as relaxed, but he seemed less stiff.  
  
Harry went outside and found Sirius curled up under the apple tree in dog form. They'd gone for a run on the moors like that, Harry finding sticks for Sirius to catch, Sirius jumping in the streams and soaking Harry when he shook himself out. They'd apparated into Whitby Abbey, and sat amongst the ruins, enjoying the summer sunshine. Walking down the 199 steps they talked about inconsequential things, before Harry dragged his Godfather into Kettle's Yard, the wizarding district for the area. He noticed the empty shop, and considered mentioning it to the twins when he saw them in a couple of days, and then realised they'd got there before him.  
At 'The Hag's Head' they got a couple of beers and fresh scampi, and sat out on the terrace overlooking the harbour and bridge. Sirius was quiet, and afterwards they returned to the cliff top and the path to Ravenscar.  
Nestling in a little cove it was an idyllic site. They wandered companionably along the railway path, Sirius pointing out some of the fauna for which Rowena's glen was famous. Turning off before they got to the village, they found themselves in a woodland hiding a deep valley. A stream ran in the bottom, down to the sea barely half a mile away. They cut along the stream bed, and presently came to a waterfall, with a deep plunge pool. Around it were large blocks of grey rock, with trees suckered onto them as best they could.  
Sirius took out a scrip and sickle, and started to harvest some of the herbs, while Harry scrambled around, looking up through the canopy to the cloud-less sky. Harvesting completed, Sirius stripped off and dived in, much to the amusement of an old witch who had just arrived. "Thee'll be young Sirius Black then, and that'll be Harry Potter." Sirius spluttered when he realised he was 20 feet from his clothes, in the presence of an older woman. "And a nice picture thee be making." Harry gasped with laughter as Sirius went bright red at her suggestive wink.  
"Rowan's the name. Rowan Blackberry. I live over yonder in the glen cottages." Sirius immediately bowed to her, and smiled. Rowan didn't seem in the least bit disconcerted by the younger men, and sat on a rock in the sunlight. Harry stripped off and dived in himself, letting the waterfall pummel his back, icy cold.  
"Thee's from the Delves, Mr Black? But thee's from the Hollow, isn't thee, Harry Potter."  
"I've never lived there." Sirius snorted. "Not since I was a baby, anyway. Why do you say that?"  
"You're a special child, boy. You have a great many gifts, more than you might realise." She whistled softly and a gorgeous barn owl flew to her finger tips, so different from Harry's Tawny. She gave him a mouse from her pocket, and he perched on her shoulder, eating happily. Harry watched fascinated, as this wizened old witch picked up Sirius' scrip and sickled, and gave them to the bird.  
"He'll deliver your ingredients to Delves, Mr Black. You won't want them spoiling in the heat, and a preserving charm's no good." She eyed Sirius, who shrugged guiltily. "And you'll be moving on again, I daresay. I look forward to seeing you again, Mr Potter, Mr Black. I'll have something for you then." And so saying she disapparated.  
"Who is she?"  
"Rowan Blackberry, keeper of the Glen. One of Rowena's own, I gather."  
"One of ours?"  
"of a sort. I believe you need to meet some people." Sirius pulled himself out onto the rocky shelf around the plunge pool. "But not quite yet, and certainly not today." The two men sprawled out naked, and let themselves dry in the filtered sun.  
  
Two days later, Sirius had been rudely awakened by Fawkes pecking his ear. The house was unnaturally still, and still in dog form, he crept out of Harry's room into the living room to find that the party fare had been laid out, along with various boxes. Drinks were mixing themselves on the dresser, and sandwiches were making themselves - ham, mutton, cress, rat.... RAT! Sirius sniffed and gave a doggy scowl. Padding outside he found the orchard deserted, except for a smell that led him inexorably towards Remus' shed, where his old friend was sitting, preparing fresh Whitby kippers on the barbeque. Sausages, bacon, mushrooms, eggs, black pudding and hash browns were in various stages of preparation.  
"Happy Birthday, old friend. Mind your nose, that's a hot sausage." Sirius cocked his head, and then panted on the sausages to cool them down. He wolfed them down in one gulp, and then transformed.  
"You remembered."  
"Yes. How we used to cook breakfast in the forest after a night on the tiles. Only we can't do that with the wolfsbane, so I did the next best thing. The kids set it up while you were asleep, and then vanished Harry mutterinig something about Rowanberries."  
"Rowan Blackberry. She met us 2 days ago."  
Remus nodded, and handed Sirius a plate of breakfast. "The party's starting at noon. We're having open house, so people can come and go as they please. And although you need to be around people, you don't like being among crowds any more." Sirius nodded gratefully. "Hermione's coming. As are Ron, Ginny, Bill and Charlie and a few of the others from school days. And other places." At this he smiled wickedly. "And of course Fred and George."  
"You've been conspiring with the only two to have ever come close to breaking the records James and I set." Sirius grinned evilly, and Remus found himself unaccountably nervous.  
The rest of the day passed with the maximum number of minor incidents, the culmination of which was a firework display by Fred, George, Bill and Remus. The pranking score was somewhere in Sirius' favour, after his retreating into his room until lunch, fiddling with his old school trunk. He'd known Bill and Charlie from school days, Charlie in particular having assisted in any number of pranks, including in the one that had got the Marauder's Map confiscated, along with Bill. The final result was a mutually beneficial business deal between the twins and Sirius, with Sirius being paid a consulting fee and given the title of 'joke development officer.' Remus had to extract a promise that Sirius would not attempt to sell jokes to students. For all that he'd grown old and responsible, particularly where Harry was concerned, he could still be that reckless kid. It was what made him a dangerous duellist - the wit to take risks, and the patience to handle any opponent.  
  
Ron and Ginny were between the Burrow and Delves - Molly felt that since the party it was probably more safe for them to be somewhere unplotted some of the time. She and Charlie were making arrangements for the next year. Molly would be working as a free lance Auror, working particularly on strategy and intelligence, putting her formidable organisational skills to work. She hadn't brought up seven kids for nothing.  
Harry, Ron and Ginny flew to Rievaulx and Rosedale frequently. Harry wanted to return to Ravenscar again, but didn't want to tell the others. His most useful find so far had been about the blood magic, something that he'd related to Hermione by letter. Surprisingly she hadn't replied, something that was most unusual for Miss Hermione Granger. They supposed she was caught up with Olivia and her family.  
Ron didn't seem so upset as Harry and Ginny expected. After all he'd expected to see more of Hermione this summer, but then events had taken this turn. She was a little resentful that they had access to the two best magical libraries in the country, and weren't to her mind using them properly. Her fire-calls had expressed surprise that they weren't busy preparing for NEWTs like she was.  
One piece of news was that Emma Fawcett was re-taking her final year. She'd had glandular fever the previous year, and had had to miss most of the year. She'd be in their modern magic with them, along with Ginny and the rest of their year. She and Hermione had spent the last few weeks going over what Emma had managed to do of her coursework.  
Remus had stepped in and reminded them both that the defense course was changing, and they couldn't rely on what they'd done. All hermione could say was that she'd be glad to get ahead with being Head Girl next year.  
  
Severus spent his days quietly immersed at Hogwarts. The Death Eaters were steadily building power and strength. Generally he avoided all but the most odious, and even Lucius Malfoy could be quite entertaining until he realised you were laughing at him rather than with him.  
His lesson plans were written up in his spiky, angular script. Fleur would be following his syllabus and teaching up to fifth form. Although he had been the same age as her when he began teaching, he wasn't happy about letting her take the kids. He just couldn't trust her to be competent, and they needed competence in the 6th and 7th years.  
It had been the sorting hat that had told him what to do with Professor McGonagall. She'd been looking tired and drawn for the last few weeks, and had driven him to distraction trying to organise the school so that it would all be right.  
None of the other staff were back yet, although all lesson plans had owled there way onto his desk and into the archive. Snape contemplated the model that Ron had drawn. He loathed that he had to have anything to do with Delves, and those therein, tiresome wretches, that all the world hinged on a seventeen year old boy.  
  
He walked to the Founders' Hall, and stood by the compass. He'd spent 5 weeks trying to right the magical balance, a little each day, hoping it would be set to equilibrium by the time the term started. The Hall was empty again, save for the compass and the wall decorations. Albus' body was in the depth of the crypts now, along with his predecessors.  
A sound at the door disturbed his reverie. Flurry was waiting for him, a young man beside her. She bowed and announced "Master Charlie Weasley." before disappearing with a pop.  
"What are you going to pester me with now?"  
"I've been talking to Lupin."  
"lucky you." Snape forgot that Charlie handled far more dangerous dragons for a living than himself, and was surprised by the glare he was being fixed with.  
"We need to re-call the order, and start to organise things properly. There's too much that isn't being done. We need to send more envoys out, including to the magical beasts." Snape nodded, and Charlie continued. "I'm happy to go out to the werewolves, centaurs, and others, but we need someone to go to the _other_ sentient beasts. And it needs to be done soon. It's like a slow poison."  
"So you want to go gallivanting off, and leave me with an empty staff position this year?"  
"I spoke to Professor Grubbly-Plank, and Tumnus, and they said they'd be happy to cover. Not to go behind your back, but I thought I'd better cover myself."  
"I see. Very Well. Professor McGonagall will be returning for the sorting, and the first week of term, and then will be away until the end of September. I suggest we reconvene the full order on Sunday, 7th September, at noon, before she leaves us. Lunch and Dinner will be provided, and we shall gather here."  
Charlie nodded and bowed. "Very Well."  
"I shall announce the meeting in the usual way." Fawkes appeared with a pop, and the headmaster explained what was to happen, and provided the phoenix with a small sheaf of papers with the date of the gathering. The bird bowed, and disappeared again.  
  
Harry was with Rowan Blackberry when their respective invitations arrived. She looked surprised at first, and relaxed only when she saw Harry had one.  
"A full order meeting then. Very rare. Now, would you like some iced Pimms?" She refilled his glass and they returned to their comfortable places in the garden. "Now, you have something you wish to talk about?"  
"It's my legacy."  
"The box and the scrolls."  
"You have them?"  
"Yes." Harry picked up the first scroll, and began to read.  
  
_The children of the light will walk in darkness. Where once they walked in hope they will tread the shadow of the black phoenix, whence the sun will be ripped from the sky.  
The Nation of Death shall be consumed in their mortality, and the harvest will be of blood. Innocents will be slaughtered, and no mortal shall be untouched. Every warrior's boot will be used in battle, and every garment rolled in blood. The earth will be scorched and left for dead, and in the black night of the soul shall come no remorse, simply grief.  
But into this a child shall be born, his mother's life will be given, and the hope will be on his shoulders. He will be called the everlasting one, the child of peace. On his shoulders will rest the phoenix, and from his sword will come the cleansing fire.  
The youngest of his line, he will be by no means the least of that line. He shall come of age in Darkness, yet shall be joined by a companion of honour and of hope.  
The companion shall be of the shadows, and yet will be known to the light. He will bear a mark of Cain, and be reviled by men. But those who know his heart will know him to be a man of honour, and of wisdom. Endowed with great strength he will repay his debts, and show loyalty and strength beyond measure.  
  
When these men shall come again, then hope will reign in the land. In the days of the final battle all will know the strength of their hand and light will cover the earth. The Darkness will be banished, but the shadows will remain.  
The remnants will be cut off head and tail, but the roots will remain. They will seek to guide and mislead them, the people will be lead astray. There will be no pleasure in the youth of men, grown old before their time, but there will be a greater rejoicing.  
The Prince of darkness will feed on the death of others. On his right will they devour and still be hungry. On the left they will eat and not be satisfied. They will turn on the flesh of each other, and still be ravenous.  
  
The youth and the master will be joined in battle, by the sons and daughters of eve. The Ancient magic will be awakened, and will rule again.  
_   
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	8. The Sorting of Snape

The Sorting of Snape.  
  
Harry, Ginny and Hermione received identical cream envelopes that friday at Delves. In them were instructions for them to return to Hogwarts early in order to rehearse for the sorting of the new Headmaster.  
  
"But we know he's a Slytherin."  
"This isn't about that, Ron. It's about bestowing on him the title of Headmaster."  
"So what's it involve?" Ron was peevish about the whole thing as it was.  
"For Every Headmaster it's different. There are certain things in each, and the presence of all of us is certainly unusual." Hermione nodded to Harry, who, as captain of Quidditch, wouldn't normally expect to be there.  
"So I'm getting the Hogwarts Express on my own?" Ron looked upset.  
"Looks like it. Look I'm sorry Ron. But I..."  
'It doesn't matter." He walked out, leaving the other three in the kitchen looking rather upset.   
"He'll be OK. It's just he was hoping he'd be a prefect this year. After all, you're captain of quidditch, and you're Head Girl, and I'm a prefect already."  
"And first Head Girl in the family ever next year." Ginny laughed at Harry's words, and messed his hair.  
"So what do we have to do."  
"Professor Minerva McGonagall requests and requires your presence at the Great Hall of Hogwarts castle at 7 p.m. for the rehearsal of the Sorting of the Headmaster, and at 8 o'clock on the first of september for the Full Sorting. Dress Robes will be required for all prefects in attendance at the ceremony itself."  
Bill and Charlie walked in ten minutes later "you've got these as well?"  
"Yeah - dress robes."  
"Well for us it's full House Robes. Red, Yellow, Green or Blue."  
Harry snickered "So, there won't be many green in attendance."  
"You'd be surprised. The ministry's going to be there, of course. And there's a fair few on the staff."  
"Professor Figg is taking over as Head of Slytherin. it's in my Head Girl Letter."  
"So we go by Portkey or Floo, is that it?"  
"Yeah - it's just the staff and prefects - those that are taking part in the ceremony - that have to go to the rehearsal."  
"So, most of the Weasley family, then." Bill looked pleased as punch, polishing up the clasps on his robes. "Me, Charlie, Perce'll be there on the day, Ginny, and Ron on the day."  
"Fred and George will sneak in somehow, I'm sure of it." The twins arrived just as he spoke.  
"No sneaking in, We've got invites as well. Wanted to check what this House Dress Robes was about."   
"Snape invited you?"  
"No - we got them through Dad. He's representing the ministry as well. We're there to represent the wizarding community of Hogsmeade. That and no one else wanted to lose the custom by shutting up shop for the day."  
"Cool."  
"We're not involved in the ceremony. But there's going to be over a thousand people there."  
"Wow."  
  
The rehearsal itself was fairly straightforward, simply about orchestrating the movements of those present. Snape himself was as sarcastic as ever. Unable to deduct House points he resorted to being as unpleasant as possible. The only thing that worried the prefects was the singing. Flitwick cast a tuneful charm on them, and they practiced nervously.  
The ceremony itself would be very simple. The House Tables would be removed entirely for the ceremony, and afterwards the juniors would eat in their common rooms, so that there would be enough space to accommodate all the visitors.  
The staff were dressed in their usual teaching robes for rehearsal, and the students wore plain work robes.  
A few left immediately after the rehearsal, so they could get the school train, but the Weasleys, Harry and Hermione went to Hagrid's old hut in order to catch up.  
"Is that it?"  
"No - the rest of it can only be done on the day. It's old, old magic that holds the place together, and can only be invoked once."  
"Wow."  
"Yes. How's your little sister, Hermione?" It was precisely the wrong thing to say.  
"about a foot long, pink, and ugly. She bawls her head off all day, and has no hair."  
"Sounds like Ginny then at that age then." Bill and Charlie started to tease their little sister, not noticing Hermione getting more and more upset. When she finally stormed out Harry followed.  
"What's up Hermione? it's not like you."  
"What's not like me. I'm being petty am I? Or has it escaped you that my family hope that she's going to be a normal baby. A muggle. One they can be proud of. One that they don't have to lie about to their friends, and can boast about normal things to. When I said I was coming back a day early, they were glad, harry. They wanted to be able to take her to see friends. People come to see her. They tell me I'm a freak, and keep asking when I'm going to be normal, or whether I should be back at the asylum. Have you any idea how much that hurts? And Ron doesn't even understand. He knows what it is to be in the shadows all the time, and he doesn't understand. Everyone loves Olivia. They're full of how cute she is, how special she is. Mum nearly died because of her. But they don't see that." Suddenly she realised what she'd said. "Sorry Harry. I didn't mean it like that."  
"It's OK. I think I understand."  
"And I can't hate her. She's so tiny, and grabs my wand every time I go past. And she can make it shoot sparks. She's a witch Harry."  
"You can't hate her, but you don't like the situation."  
"Snape's right. She's in danger, because of me. Because of who she is. McGonagall congratulated me on a second witch in the family today. She's already in the book."  
"And when you've quite finished your little pity party, Miss Granger, I would suggest you return to the castle. For someone who appreciates the danger she is in you have a remarkably unguarded mouth. Do not let your foolishness go to your head, or your baser emotions take control. It could be very dangerous. Very dangerous indeed."  
"I'm sorry, sir..."  
"You didn't think. How very Gryffindor. If I had any say, I would be seriously reconsidering your appointment as Head Girl at this moment. You have shown a remarkable lack of good sense. As it is, I intend to honour the appointments made my Professor Dumbledore in all good faith. If however this trust is breached, then you shall be duly dealt with." Snape appeared from where he had been concealed by the shadows of the forest.  
"yes, Headmaster. We were talking with the Weasleys."  
"And you took offence at something they said? It would appear their younger brother's temper tantrums are rubbing off on you. You might be more careful about whose company you keep if that is their effect. Mr Potter, if I might have a word."  
Hermione headed back to the little cottage, her head bowed. The Weasleys had heard most of the conversation, and Bill calmly took her inside. Ginny shut the door leaving Harry and Professor Snape in the darkness.  
"Well. It would appear that her temper hasn't improved in the last two months. If you would care to walk towards the school." Snape indicated that Harry should follow him, and they headed towards the main buildings.  
"Your inclusion in the ceremony is unusual, but I think vital. You know the scrolls now."  
"Yes sir."  
"Then you will be in the dungeons at 10 o'clock tomorrow morning. There are some things that we need to go over. Bring your scrolls."  
"Yes sir."  
"Go on then. That will be all." Harry fair ran for the side door. He looked behind to see Snape turn away to the door into the dungeons that materialised as he reached it, and then disappeared.  
  
The following morning found Harry nervously standing outside the dungeons with Draco and Hermione. Snape motioned irritably that he should enter, and gave him a scroll.  
"Sit. Your words for this evening's ceremony. You know your steps. Miss Granger, I am aware that you have knowledge of some of the ancient tongues?" She nodded. "And you yourself know both Latin and French, Mr Malfoy." He nodded.  
"Mr Potter is a Parselmouth, Professor McGonagall speaks scots Gaelic. Professor Black speaks Cornish. and Professor Lupin the language of the wolves." The light dawned on Hermione's face.  
"Correct, Miss Granger." Draco failed to understand, Harry nodded.  
"Languages. Your second specialism, after potions."  
'Yes, Mr Potter. That will be all." Harry nodded and left, as Snape started to outline the duties of the prefects and Heads of school to Hermione and Draco.  
  
The following morning Harry and Hermione sat in the shade one of the oaks by the lake, comfortable in each other's company.  
"What do you think's going to happen?"  
"I don't know. Percy and the twins are in the immediate danger. As are your parents and sister."  
"And you're..."  
"Harry Potter, NEWTs student, captain of Quidditch, and number one target."  
"Yes. Are you OK? Something changed yesterday."  
"I, well I realised what my powers are. Have you any idea how hard it was for me to break away from that, Hermione?"  
"What do you mean?"  
"Yesterday. I was part of the castle. The magic and I - I felt invincible. No, not invincible - I knew I could be hurt. I was - something. Not simply a child."  
Hermione nodded. She had felt different at the end of it, the same intangible thing that she felt Harry was getting at.  
"I'm not invincible. In fact I was never more vulnerable in one way. I felt so passionately about wanting to be alive."  
"I'm not sure that that isn't an advantage." Harry looked at her sideways.  
"If I want to live so much I'm not going to risk dying. And yet the final battle will result in one of the order of the phoenix dying. Him or Me."  
Hermione wasn't entirely sure whether there was anything she could say. Saying as much, Harry looked at her and nodded. "that was enough. To know you wanted to say something." She smiled, and asked him about Quidditch. He, with a tact she would have thought impossible in Ron, kept it brief, talking about the political considerations of the program - not wanting to have the likely deciding matches too close together, and his idea for a couple of exhibition matches - things to unite the school.  
"You'd have to talk to the Headmaster about that. I'm sure he'd agree." Harry smiled. "You'll have to lay down the gauntlet of course." He laughed at her words, and teased her about which book she'd got that out of. She laughed, and they talked about what she'd been reading that summer.  
She didn't know Snape was in the tree, listening with his boots on, enjoying the ideas of Harry's while cursing him for being the one to think of it. He'd gone there to find some fresh acorns for a potion, and remove some of the parasite on its trunk, not intending to eavesdrop while they conversed - reading, quidditch, her family, himself. Never the prophecy though, nor the gifts that he had.  
Slipping away he walked away from the tree, only to find himself with a twisted ankle. Cursing he healed himself, something he was well practised at, having avoided Pomfrey's ministrations insofar as he was able.  
  


* * *

_**The following day**_  
  
"Come forward, Professor Severus Snape." Snape walked forward to the middle of the circles that were forming around him. The first circle was the Heads of Houses, with Draco waiting to join at the Slytherin point. Next came the prefects and the staff, an array of splendid reds greens, yellows and blues, contrasting with the Silvers, Golds, Bronzes and Blacks. Draco's robe changed from Green to silver as he took his place. The school ghosts formed a dense white circle, with the school and guests forming the outer circle, ordered from smallest to largest student.  
In the middle sat the Sorting Hat, resting above head height, and visible to all, save Snape himself.  
"You are a brave man, Professor Snape. Take you hands and place me on your head." Snape took the 7 paces to the middle, and reached up. The Sorting Hat landed on his head, and seemed to glow briefly, and settled there, a crown, and not simply an old hat.   
  
  
The new headmaster has been chosen, a man of wit and truth  
loyalty and conscience, of which the bird stands proof  
I give you your headmaster, from the noble den of Snakes  
Potions Master, Linguist, Professor Severus Snape  
  
Standing tall and proud, Severus Snape heard the hat praise him as a credit to Slytherins, the best of his kind, something that gave pleasure to the students of a much maligned house.  
Finally there was silence. Fawkes flew in, and removed the hat. Snape stood in plain black robes, his head bare. His hair was clean and neatly trimmed, his neckline low cut, the robes tailored, but unadorned. On his neck the white scars could be made out by those who searched, but now he stood before the school, laid open before them all.  
  
"Come Hogwarts, Own thy master." McGonagall's voice echoed, ringing clearly. It felt as though a ripple was moving through the room, as Ravel's pavane seemed to sing from the stones, as the Heads of Houses began their enchantments.  
In Gaelic McGonagall spoke the words of Griffindor, The inner circle was surrounded by the flames, colours shifting, enchanting.  
Flitwick followed with Ravenclaw's words, spoken in Welsh, commanding the air to bear the Headmaster. Snape rose from the flames visited by four birds: Phoenix, Owl, dove and raven.  
Sprout spoke in in Old English, the blessing of the water, offering lilies and roses, myrrh and pine. The birds took the flowers, carrying them to the corners of the hall.  
Finally Harry spoke. In Parseltongue harry chanted the words of Slytherin, amending the final blessing to 'child of mine own house' something that registered in Snape's eyes. He felt the stones and the earth responding, and only realised he had been part of the castle when he had to pull away from it.   
Finally Snape himself responded, accepting the blessings, and extending the protection of the castle to the sentient beings in its grounds and the forest and lake.  
  
Only as Harry stepped back did Harry notice the change in Snape's robes. Gone now were the plain black. In their place a regal, deep purple robe, images woven into the cloth by magic.  
The prefects traced runes into the ground, joining other circles in the floor, the characters shimmering in Gold and then setting into the stone. Snape returned to the stone floor, the special effects finishing, leaving only a shimmering light in the hall.  
His proud bearing served him well. For all that Dumbledore was the showman, evidenced by his own Sorting, Snape had a dignified sense of occasion. Into the new silence he sang, a voice that made Hermione shiver next to Harry, and Black's eyes open wide. All eyes met Snape's as he finished his verse   
"In the Light to lead in all things  
To the end of All my days  
Evermore and Evermore"  
The Heads of Houses took up the second verse in four-part harmony, handing over the gifts of the Houses, Harry recognising only the sword of Griffindor. The prefects and staff took up the next verse, the poignancy of 'let him know he is deserving, He on whom this mantle falls' was not lost on most of the staff. The School ghosts sang the next verse, and as the school took up the final verse Snape turned the High table, and stood in the Headmaster's place. A single clap and the house tables appeared. In silence he stood as they took their places, all feeling his presence.  
"The sorting of students will take place now." Taking the sorting hat from Fawkes he placed it on the stool, and called the first student, putting the hat gently on the head of Alban, Anastasia, who, somewhat fittingly, became a Slytherin.  
"Today, more names were added to our honours board in the library. We remember those for whom this would have been their sorting feast." Snape read 20 names that would appear on no board. "And might I remind you that it would be extreme foolishness to venture into the forbidden forest, as if the list of names should not be a sufficient reminder of the precarious times in which we live. Might I remind you to look at the lists of all the fallen - Dark and Light alike. We cannot simply purge from memory those whom we know that happen to die in the name of a cause that is not our own, just because we like the idea. Let it be a reminder to you, that although house points matter, there is also a great deal to be said for valuing life."  
Snape's robes had muted to a rich purple, the designs fading from view. They left the feast in silence, Harry and Hermione in their plain red robes, Draco still in his silver.  
"I feel, different somehow."  
"That was old and powerful magic, Harry. Did you feel it?"  
"It was more than that. It was the crossing of the Rubicon." Draco was in the background, a thoughtful look on his face.  
"Well, his life is forfeit now. There was only Voldemort standing between him and Azkaban before. Now he's a traitor to both sides. It's only a matter of time, Potter. It's only a matter of time."  
  
  
  
"You thought, Mr Potter  
I don't know whether to congratulate you for going to the bother or deduct points that the endeavour was so poorly spent."  
Harry tried not to look pleased. At least Snape's lessons had changed little and he was still a git to the Gryffindors, though the Slytherins weren't being nearly so smarmy as before.  
Snape seemed to have inherited that sense of raw power from Dumbledore, able to turn it on and off at will. He lacked the 110 years his mentor had on him, but even so he had his own formidable weapons.  
  
Turning on the Slytherins he observed that they would need to improve this year if they intended to pass their NEWTs. He added something about there being no need to reiterate his words in the common room, which led Harry to observe to Ron in a note. Ron scribbled back "some things never change thank merlin. For the first time in my life I'm looking forward to potions."  
"Can I get you to sign this piece of parchment and frame it for the common room?"  
Unfortunately Snape's sharp eyes had been augmented by a certain familiar omniscience and after the lesson kept Harry Ron and Hermione. "What time would you like to come this evening for some private study." Ron looked horrified.  
"No, I don't mean that as a euphemism for detention. I assure you I'm not. Even though I am now Headmaster I intend to continue my 7th year tutorials in Modern Magic which will be by invitation only. Similar arrangements are being made by other members of staff for the first time. I will be offering two groups. I was hoping that Miss Granger would be in one of them. And Mr Potter. If you wish to join, Mr Weasley I doubt I would be able to exclude you, although your note would not suggest a complete change of heart." Hermione and Harry looked at each other and nodded. "It will not directly help you in your studies, but it will enable you to think with a good deal more clarity than you currently seem to exhibit."  
  
  
  



	9. Modern Magic

Modern Magic  
  
The first Modern Magic lesson of term was held with the presence of both professors. Lupin looked at ease, Snape somewhat thunderous, both businesslike. Harry took his customary chair in the third place of the small circle. Hermione was in the fifth place, opposite the teachers. Pansy took the first place, Ginny Weasley the seventh. Emma Fawcett hesitated as she walked in, then walked over to the second place, nodding amicably to all present. Two sixth year Hufflepuffs - Liam and Richenda - took the places either side of Ginny, with Terry Boot in the fifth place, and Lisa Turpin the ninth place, next to Remus.  
  
On each chair there were parchments with the syllabus on, with the topics that would be covered over the course of two years, and to act as a reminder to the seventh years. Harry scanned this list, noting the topics that had been covered by Dumbledore and Remus the previous year, and what the new material would be. A large part of the course was 'sentient beings and their role in society' - looking at werewolves, giants, vampires, and included merpeople and centaurs. The other major theme for the year was 'Social Groups and wizarding society'. The sixth years would have 'Wizarding government' and 'Trade, Economics and Knowledge' the following year, which Harry, Hermione, Terry, Lisa had already covered. Emma had missed some of Wizarding Government because of being ill, but surprisingly it was Snape who had stepped in to offer her additional tuition after the first lesson. She'd returned late, missing the sorting ceremony due to a family bereavement, and hadn't had time to make all her arrangements for the year.  
  
The lessons took various forms - there were seminars, lectures and practicals, with a requirement for a total of 15 essays, each of 3 feet, and an extended essay of 4-5 feet. Snape paused at this point, and looked pointedly at Hermione as he said 'You will find that discretion is the better part of valour. Inane ramblings that exceed the limit will not be marked, and you will receive an automatic fail grade. If they are illegible because the writing is cramped, then a fail grade will also be noted. As a guideline, there should be no more than 15 words to a line, 10 for preference. If you cannot express an idea with concision then you will find that this course is not for you. It requires precise, intelligent comment, and the ability to think independently, rather than relying solely on parroting irrelevancies from the idiot of choice.' Hermione nodded, fervently wishing for the return of Professor Dumbledore who had been happy with her long essays.  
  
Lupin explained the way the lessons would be divided between the two, Snape leaning back with a slight sneer on his face. It was traditional that the Headmaster of Hogwarts supervise Modern Magic, being as she or he typically was, someone with political influence and a master in their own field. It was also traditional that another person (if Remus Lupin counted as such) should take the lessons that the Headmaster was unavailable for. What was not acceptable was the Headmaster of Hogwarts being expected to behave like a supply teacher, and having to fill in once a month. As a result the sessions would be held in the evening, and re-arranged so that they didn't clash with the moon, if necessary. As mostly they were mondays and fridays the first term presented no problems.  
  
Lupin organised them into groups, much to Snape's displeasure, explaining that they would be ordered so that there was a mixture of backgrounds that they might learn from one another. He grinned at Harry and Ginny as he spoke, separating them into different groups. Ginny, Pansy, Emma and Lisa were all purebloods, Hermione and Terry were Muggle-born, and Richenda and Liam were half-bloods. Harry wasn't sure where he would be classified, and neither was Remus, because he was put into the group of five, consisting of Pansy, Lisa, Terry and Liam. Ginny, Emma, Hermione and Richenda formed the other group. Snape turned to his co-educator and drawled softly "Is that wise, Remus, putting such a crowd of giggling girls together. There is little likelihood of anything being completed."  
  
Remus paused and replied "Headmaster, there is little likelihood of any of those young women ever being inclined to giggle in their lives. Laugh, maybe." As if to prove a point Richenda had given a witty one-liner in response to Hermione's suggestion about study groups and Ginny and Emma and chuckled appreciatively. Snape had scowled, and then turned to the group as a whole, asking for a brief appraisal of events over the summer. He was immensely surprised when Emma spoke first, suggesting the events of Midsummer, and the escape of the Lestranges from Azkaban. Lisa had looked daggers at her, and countered with some of the details of the ministry workings, in particular some new edicts concerning the practising of magic in front of muggles. Hermione talked a little about some of the protective magic that was being put in place for vulnerable individuals, and Terry mentioned the changes in the regulation of magical creatures, with a worried look at Lupin.  
  
"I don't mind at all" that professor replied. "In fact, I rather prefer that the information is in the open, as it means you know whereof I speak. The biggest change has been in the registry, with greater restrictions being placed upon our movements, and the fact that we must declare openly our lycanthropy in any job situation. The problem is that these measures are not to promote the welfare of werewolves, but are restrictive measures that alienate my kind. Similar is being done for House Elves, Vampires and half-giants. It is unsurprising that these individuals feel that they can best be served by joining Voldemort."  
  
Harry looked thoughtful, and Lupin caught his eye and nodded. "We all have to make choices. Whether something is best for us, or best for all of us. It's what Dumbledore said 2 years ago. Between what is right, and what is easy." Lupin tried to encourage him to continue, but Snape stepped in.  
  
"Do you have any more devastating insights to give us." Harry looked at him, and Snape's words did what Lupin's silent encouragement had failed to do.  
  
"It's easy to join the Dark for a quick fix, to try and get power by foul means, when we can't get it by fair, to seek revenge instead of Justice. To take out our insecurities on others, instead of dealing with them ourselves."  
  
"You speak from experience, Mr Potter?" Snape's voice was dangerously soft. "You think that all who fight for the light side do so from some sense of what is intrinsically right, and not from self-interest? That they won't go scurrying to the dark when it suits them best."  
  
"No, I don't." Harry met Snape's eyes as an equal. Hermione interrupted the show-down with a squeak.  
  
"It's like Bosnia, and Rwanda and Kuwait. They're all Muggle wars, or rather, interventions. Each of them very different, and it looked as if decisions to interfere were based on self-interest and justified by self-righteousness." Her voice tumbled over itself in an effort to get the words out. It was Terry Boot who elaborated on the idea, with Richenda and Liam filling in some of the parallels from Wizarding history. Remus naturally fell into his usual role as facilitator, drawing out the sixth years, and reining in the seventh years, while Severus drew back into the shadows of the room, watching sullenly.  
  
  
Severus watched the group, his eyes following the nine and a half people in the room. He hoped he'd be able to keep Sirius away from Ella Lestrange, the interfering Mutt. He couldn't be trusted not to give the game away and call her by her real name. His mind ranged over the Memoparch that was in his office - there would be the meeting in the Founders Hall, of course, where everyone would fawn over the Potter Boy, like he wasn't some kid that happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Remus was enjoying himself, actually laughing and joking with the students, like he was one of them, instead of being in charge of the session. Some of the students glanced nervously at him, particularly Ginny Weasley. Lisa and Emma had nothing but contempt in their features, while Pansy acknowledged him with a smile and returned to the fleabitten animal that was "teaching" them.  
Eventually he walked forward, effectively silencing Richenda who had just started to elaborate on some waffling point or other. "It's all very well, this pseudo-psychological analysis of human interference, but has any of you bothered to consider What caused the popularity of the dark, and why the Death Eaters began? We have no time now. 3 feet on the origins of the Death Eaters, on this desk for this time next week. Remus looked at him with a query in his face and smiled. "You, being better informed in these matters than I, perhaps would prefer to mark these parchments?"   
  
"You, as Dark Arts instructor, should be aware of the situation as well as any of us, unless I am misinformed as to your suitability for the post."  
  
"As you wish." Remus gathered his things, and the two walked towards the door. "How was your meeting at the ministry?"  
Snape snorted. "Fudge believes he can negotiate with the Dark Lord." Remus shook his head, and walked into his own office, before flooing back to Delves, where Sirius had cooked supper.  
  
  
Harry and Ginny walked around the castle, hand in hand and talking quietly. Or, to be more accurate, she was talking, and he was gazing at her with adoration on his face. She was talking about her other classes that day, how good it was to see her brothers, how Charlie was getting on at the Dragon reserve, how she was worried about her father and all the work he was doing. Harry just nodded, letting her pretty voice wash over him, and feeling her small hand in his.  
  
She was full of the plans for quidditch, when Harry paused her, and grinned. "How about this? Two exhibition matches this year. One - the Weasleys versus the school, and two - staff versus students. We can raise funds for charity."  
  
"Would you be playing for the Weasleys, or for the school?"  
  
"The School. Including your cousins you've easily got a good team. Patrick, Libby and Paul will play, won't they?" Harry was referring to the children of Arthur's older brother, Roger, who had been at school with Charlie, Bill and his parents. "You've got Charlie as   
Seeker, you, Ron and Libby as Chasers, Fred and George as Beaters, and Bill, Patrick or Paul as Keeper."  
  
"So, who would your team be?"  
  
"I'm not sure. I don't know if I'd even pick myself - Ravenclaw has a really good reserve seeker for this year, and Hufflepuff are looking as strong as they were before Cedric..."  
  
"Harry, you've got to play. C'mon." She pulled him towards her for a kiss, and then looked up. He was staring at her again, bemused and worshipping at the shrine of Ginny Weasley. "You said you'd show me how to get into the Founders' Hall. I still haven't worked out how to get in there on Fridays." Hermione and Ron came around the corner, Hermione demure, Ron untidy as ever. He ruffled his little sister's hair, and asked what they'd been talking about.  
  
Hermione butted in as usual, chattering with Ginny about paths in the castle, and the best routes to take. Harry and Ron trailed a bit behind the two girls as they did a circuit of the school, looking for trouble, as Ron put it. Finding none they settled into their favourite room, one with chamber pots that Dumbledore had mentioned to Harry in fourth year, and they'd finally found the year before. Each chamber pot was a pensieve, filled with the memories of the different Headmasters and Mistresses of Hogwarts.   
  
They talked a bit about the planned order meeting, and Ginny mentioned some plan of Charlie's, to do with going out among the fringe groups, leaving tumnus in charge of CMC. He was going to go to the Order meeting with the sole object of getting permission for a particular errand, though who he would get permission from was moot. Most agents had been acting on their own initiative, and it was only a matter of time before one of them got killed.  
  
Ron and Hermione were talking and laughing, dipping in and out of chamber pots at random, and turning up some very strange images indeed. So far, they'd deliberately kept to the oldest pots, from the founding of Hogwarts, and moved on from there, Hermione's feminist soul warmed to the core by the tales of powerful witches that had brought the warring men to their heels and their knees. Harry watched as Ginny was more circumspect, only going for the lion pots, which they had learned had belonged to Gryffindors. Ron was recklessly going in and out of whatever took his fancy, until he came out of one, and instead of his usual ebullient report, had gone to the basin in the corner, and thrown up. He'd refused to speak, going so far as to put a temporary muting spell on himself, and instead burying his head in Hermione's hair as soon as she emerged from another expedition.  
  
She looked at him sharply, but said nothing, realising it was futile. Harry already knew the dangers of unfettered pot-surfing, and tended to leave his friends to it. He knew it was only a matter of time before Ginny caught a Gryffindor doing something unspeakable, or Hermione witnessed a crime of violence against a man. Ron, it seemed, had already met his comeuppance.  
  
  
That evening he excused himself from the group, and went to Snape's office. He gave the password "Mandragora" and moved up the staircase, pausing at the top.  
He knocked briskly, and waited until Snape's voice admitted him. Fawkes flew to him, ruffling his hair, something which seemed to annoy the Headmaster. "What is it, Potter?"  
"The Scrolls. I have in my possession at Delves and Hogwarts some of the items. May I return to Delves this evening to collect the box?" Snape struggled for a minute - knowing why Harry had done as he had done, and disliking it intensely.  
"I suppose you must. Go via Lupin's office." Harry paused again. "What else is it?"  
"The scrolls mention rings. Green and Yellow stones for some of them. Red and Blue for the others."  
"Yes, potter. The Founders rings. They have been lost to us for centuries."  
"307 to be precise." Snape looked up. "Coincidentally this was the date that Delves was rendered unplottable. Some similar rings were found 80 years ago, and were buried beneath an apple tree in London.  
"Since when have you deigned to actually avail yourself of the school's academic resources?" Harry stared at him, and then began to hiss in Parseltongue. "Potter!"  
"Sorry, sir." Trembling he looked up. "May I look at your Dark Mark, sir?" Snape stared at him, and then slowly revealed the tattoo. Harry watched the Snake as it curled around the skull, writhing under the skin. He hissed experimentally, and to his surprise, Snape felt a response from the snake of the mark.  
The conversation continued for twenty minutes, before Harry nodded, and said "thank you" to Snape. He turned to go.  
"Potter - you have spent 20 minutes talking to my arm. I would appreciate an explanation."  
Harry paused, unsure of how to respond. "Could I explain when I return from Delves?"  
"One hour, Potter, then I want an explanation."  
"Sir."  
Taking his leave, Harry ran to Remus' room, and quickly flooed over to Delves. Remus and Sirius were very surprised to see him, especially when he barely paused to talk until he'd been to his room. Returning more sedately, he carried his memory box, and another box that the other two hadn't noticed before.  
"I'll tell you sunday, at the order meeting." And with that Harry had gone, leaving a bemused pair in his wake.  
  
Snape was glad to see the back of Potter, albeit for an hour. He checked over his teaching work, and then settled down to the usual mound of ministry scrolls. He was tired, and no longer wondered at the rapidity with which Albus' hair had faded. Forty-five minutes later, Harry appeared in the room again, and sat at the table that Snape indicated. On it he placed the two boxes.  
  
"Well, Potter?"  
Harry looked at him for a long while, as the headmaster snorted irritably. "Do you have anything to about your extraordinary behaviour, or shall I resort to docking house points, like a first year." Harry's eyes met Snape's, and then spoke, softly, but firmly.  
"How does the Dark Mark function?" Snape paused, and then replied.  
"Can't you tell, by your hissings?"  
"She told me some things. Her name is Caducea. She is animated by part of your soul. It is that connection that directs the apparition." Snape was leaning back, eyes half-closed, and betraying little emotion. "She knows where you have to go, in order to direct apparitions." Harry stopped here, and swallowed.  
"She also says that part of your soul was bound to Voldemort at the ceremony."  
Snape tried to remain calm, and fortunately Fawkes chose that moment to sing. Channelling Albus, Snape spoke.  
"You would be correct, Mr Potter. There are some things that cannot be undone, however much one might wish it." Harry had the grace to look away. He remembered Hagrid's death, and was silent. Cedric's death was bad enough, but it was his choices, albeit misguided by others, that had ultimately caused Hagrid's death.  
"You should also know that I have broken all the ties that I once had." Harry nodded, his respect deepening for his Headmaster, for all the coldness in his voice. "You think you will be able to use this mark? Very well, we shall see."  
  
Snape lapsed into silence, watching the young man in front of him. Potter had won his respect the previous year, with the incident that had ultimately led to Albus' death. He had freed Snape from a group of Death-Eaters, and at the time Snape had put it down to idiocy, allowing himself to be caught by them, even though he had subsequently freed himself. Now, Snape wasn't so sure. There was an air of authority that was familiar - Albus' legacy, no doubt.  
Life Debts meant that one couldn't so readily dismiss someone, or he would have swept Potter out of the room. He wanted to write the Potter boy of as an idiot, an imbecile and an infant. Unfortunately, he simply couldn't. He wondered if Pettigrew had the same loathing of Potter, the same requirement not to dismiss the boy out of hand. He watched the boy handling the more modern box with reverence. The Weasley girl had made it, no doubt, and he worshipped her. Snape snorted, attracting Harry's attention. It was sickening to see one human being treating another like a demi-goddess. At least the father had treated Lily as an equal, instead of promoting her to near-mythical status. Ginny Weasley took advantage of it, and it was dangerous. She'd been in Voldemort's grip, and no matter how _nice_ someone was, that sort of association would always leave a taint to the skin.  
Harry was unaware of these thoughts as he drew the objects out of the box. There were a number of rings, seven in all, three green, three yellow, and one which was red. Snape looked over them, suddenly interested.  
There were seven empty rings, which intrigued Snape further. Harry had gone to slip the red ring onto his finger, but Snape spoke.  
"Have you no common sense. I would have thought the experience of the Tri-wizard tournament would be enough to deter you from meddling with unknown objects. Where did you come by these?"  
"Rowan Blackberry told me where to look. They were buried in the orchard at Delves. The boxes - one was made by Ginny Weasley, the other was in my vault. It - it relates to the scrolls." Snape looked mildly surpised by the name, but otherwise his face was impassive.  
"You plan to bring these to the order meeting?"  
"Yes." From the second box Harry withdrew certain items. The first were a sword and shield. The sword was similar to that of Gryffindor, without the jewels. The shield had a blood-red lion on it. The second item was a bow with a quiver full of arrows. At this point Snape stood up, shaking, and walked to the fireplace. He threw some powder on the fire, and said "Delves." Remus' head appeared in the fireplace. Snape paused, as if unaccustomed to being polite.  
"Would you gentlemen please join us? This will not wait until the order meeting." Remus nodded, and vanished temporarily. Snape clicked his fingers, and Flurry the House-Elf appeared.  
"Would you summon Miss Granger, Miss Weasley and Mr Ron Weasley." Flurry nodded, and disappeared with a crack. Finally he turned to his amulet, and tapped it sharply. "Rowan Blackberry, Hereward Wicken, Jasmine Trufflehunter, Jerome Snowdon."  
Within ten minutes eleven people filled the room, although it didn't feel crowded. Snape had banished one table, and asked Harry to place the scrolls and the gifts on the table. He himself got the Founders gifts out, and laid them there, alongside the rings.  
Remus looked at the gifts, and winced when he saw the shield and sword. Sirius looked at him, and rested a hand on his arm. "Not all of your kind are good. You cannot be likened to them." Remus nodded, but moved briskly to the other gifts. The dagger rested next to the diamond bottle, and tucked by it were the bow and arrows, and the horn. A set of chessmen was also laid out, but they were quite unlike any that Harry had ever seen. Godric's sword, Salazar's boots - still dirty from Snape's last exploit, Helga's cloak, and Rowena's glasses and quill were laid out as well, along with the rings - the founders rings were next to the other rings that Harry had uncovered.  
"Didn't anyone ever tell you to clean your sword after each battle?" quipped Sirius to Snape when he saw the state of the boots. Snape scowled.  
The three strangers were standing away from the main group. Rowan had moved towards Harry to shake hands, but otherwise had been very quiet. Snape spoke to all of them.  
"I've called you together to show you that the gifts have returned. More will be said on Sunday, at the Order Meeting, but I thought you should know." The four strangers nodded and bowed. The other six eyed them curiously, but got no answers, because, as one, they disappeared into the flames again.  
  
Hermione looked confused, completely lost as to the significance of the events. Harry only knew because of Rowan and Sirius explaining things over the summer. Ron and Ginny looked at each other, eyes wide.  
Sirius looked at Severus, and paused. "Your middle name is Peter?" Snape nodded, and muttered bitterly "It should be Edmund."   
Sirius then turned to Remus, wide-eyed. Harry stood and moved to the middle of the room.  
"Thank you, gentlemen, ladies." His air was that of one born to be king. Gone was the awkwardness and shyness. In its place was a young man, self-possessed and authoritative. "This will be concluded at the order meeting on Sunday, in the Founders' Hall."  
Snape scowled in the background, and then nodded. The group departed for the evening, Lupin and Sirius deep in conversation, Hermione scowling at the other three, and Harry listening to the chatter of brother and sister, having gathered up the gifts into the two boxes.  
When they returned to the common room, Harry went straight to his own room, leaving the others to do as they wished. He placed the scrolls in Ginny's box, and the other gifts in their own box. That box was a wooden casket, bound in brass. On it was an old script in a language he didn't know. Inside it was velvet-lined and far larger than it looked. In it was the one gift that he hadn't shown the others - a pottery chalice, very old. In one of his scrolls it was mentioned and said that it should be held apart. The others hadn't been able to see it yet, even though they'd looked in the box.  
Sighing, he laid it down, and set about finishing his homework.  
  
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	10. Notes on the characters

Neither **Sirius** nor **Snape** do I see as being wholly good, or wholly bad. I've tried to draw both of them as real people, with their faults and flaws, but with parallel lives. I try to bring out the better side of Snape, without missing out on the fact he can be an utter bastard. However - if you win his respect, you have it for life, or nearly that, but his good opinion, once lost, is lost forever.  
I don't subscribe to the view of Pettigrew as being always bad either - he was one of the group, and had a sense of humour, and must have been quite likeable at one time, although now he's a sad and twisted git. I see him as having a penchant for 007. I will post some stories about MWPP, when I allude to them in the text. If it's a snape story, it'll find itself in '_A simmering cauldron'_. There's one MWPP story up, so far, called _'Reversal_', and another in the pipeline, called '_Wuthering Heights_'. '_Quidditch in Bed_' will also be making an appearance. _Wuthering Heights_ will feature the Lupin family and the Snape family.  
  
The **addressee** of Snape's letter is a student at the school, who will be in the trio's year, and a ravenclaw. She has been mentioned already in the story. Yes, she's critical to the plot.  
**  
Poetry** - the chapter 'The Leaving' is based in part on _Funeral Blues_ by WH Auden. I may do this with a couple of future chapters - stay tuned  
**  
As far as Snape and the Death-Eaters** is concerned: He made a deal with Voldemort, that his family would be protected, and that his life would be Voldemort's. Voldemort broke this contract when he failed to prevent a DE killing the Llewellyns, and the second part of the contract was fulfilled when Dumbledore freely took Snape's place in the prologue. This is partly what has weakened Voldemort - the death of Dumbledore, and the fulfilling of the contract.  
  
The** flatness** in parts of the story, after Juno's death, was partly helped by having a family friend die two days before I wrote the chapter. No one close, but enough to affect everyone. I try to get the mood into my writing - Snape is quite badly affected by both deaths, because Juno was very important to him. When he first turned, he stayed with her, because Dumbledore didn't trust him at the school yet. You will get to find out more about her - she wasn't simply a convenient plot device, but a very powerful woman.  
I'm not turning Snape into a cry-baby. He only cries this once, and he really didn't like me mentioning it.  
  
**The model and the 'Old Crowd'** - the Order of the Phoenix becomes the inner circle of the trio, Ginny, Snape, Lupin and Black. The rest of the group are Arabella Figg, Fletcher et al, and some others who are involved in covert operations.  
The Amulets that connect them aren't quite like mobile phones - more like tape-recorders that can be used to send text messages.  
**  
Narnia** - this wasn't a cross-over fic, entirely, however there will be certain narnians appearing in the story, not least in the final chapters. To the characters of HP-land, Narnia (as described in the end of 'The Last Battle') is their idea of the heaven-lands. Tumnus I've always had a certain affection for - I see him as being like Ron in many ways, the friend that leads Harry/Lucy into the magical kingdom. However, in the middle of the forest, there is a lamp-post. it only has one arm, and it doesn't appear very often. And one of the Pevensies is the mother of a canon character.  
  
**The Lestranges** - they're back, and they're evil. Nerosites is a word I derived from Emperor Nero - that of doing evil, and making it look as if it is being done by others. Black Witch is (in my canon) a person with the ability to manipulate demons. They were unaffected by the dementors, because their 'happiest' memories are also some of the worst things they've done. In effect, they can feed off the dementors.  
They left their daughter under the Fidelius Charm. When they left Azkaban, they broke it, which is how Snape knew to write the letter - the charm being broken means that knowledge will slide into your head, if you held it before hand. He knew about Ella, but hadn't connected it - Ella isn't her full name, and she isn't known by this name in school. She doesn't understand this, and blames Snape. Her parents blame Snape for landing them in Azkaban - the testimony that Karkaroff gave is known to them, as is Dumbledore's reply.  
I see the Fidelius as being the magical equivalent of the Muggle-repelling charm of _Goblet of Fire_.  
  
**The Prophecy** - (OA6) is based on Isaiah.  
  
None of this would be without the great goddess that is JKR - it really all belongs to her and CS Lewis. I've tried to use ideas from both to influence the way I've turned my own plot. The uses of Dragons which will appear later in the story are borrowed from Arabella and Zsenya, in their story 'After the End'.   
  
**Rowan Blackberry, Hereward Wicken, Jasmine Trufflehunter, Jerome Snowdon** - these are the guardians of the Founders. Each Founder had a place where they left their legacy. For Rowena, it was at Ravenscar, the glen that Sirius and Harry visited. Ravenscar is a real place, and you can walk along the railway track from Whitby to Scarborough. Hereward Wicken is from the fen country of Cambridgeshire. Wicken Fen is about 10 miles from Ely, and is the last bit of wild fen left. Hereward the Wake was a rebel leader of the marshes. Jasmine Trufflehunter - Trufflehunter was a badger in the Chronicles of Narnia (_Prince Caspian_), and Jasmine in its white form represents friendliness, a good keeper for Helga's valley, which I'm placing as being at Helmsdale, in Scotland. Jerome Snowdon - the latter name is the mountain in Wales, the former is a saint associated with removing a thorn from the paw of a lion. Godric's Hollow, I'm placing as being in the mountains above Aberystwyth.  
The Languages used at the Sorting do not correspond to the languages spoken by the Founders themselves. The locations chosen relate to the sorting hat song in _Goblet of Fire_. Part of the role of the guardians is as keeper of the gifts of the founders, and the missing rings come under this remit. The rings have different functions, and the empty ones will need to be filled.  
  
**The Gifts** - these are the gifts that are given to the children in _the Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe_. The yellow and green rings are from _The Magician's Nephew_ and _The Last Battle_, and are an alternative way of getting into Narnia. The comments about names - Edmund was the traitor in _the Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe_, and Peter was the High King.   
**Lupin's** discomfort about the shield and sword relate to the first time the sword was used - to kill a werewolf. The chess set is mentioned at the beginning of Prince Caspian, when the children find themselves in Cair Paravel.  
  
  
**Snape's boots:** He gets away without being seen by virtue of Slytherin's boots, a privilege similar to that of the Gryffindor sword - one that could be wielded by showing the traits of one's house. As Headmaster he could use all four gifts - the sword, the quill that leant a near omniscient wisdom to its bearer, boots that made one invisible, and a cloak that attracted loyal friends to its wearer, if that wearer was worthy.  
The gifts relied on the character of the individual to augment whatever traits he or she had. So the sword lent valour to the heart of one with some bravery, and the boots stealth to one already possessed of cunning.  
  
  
  
  



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